


A Shining Spade

by SimplyTsundere



Series: Soldiers of the Spade [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Assassin AU, Assassin Marco, Blood and Gore, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Gunshot Wounds, Illegal Activities, Italian Mafia, Italy, M/M, Mafia Leader Marco, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, Partial Sequel, Smut, Spin-Off, Violence, italian marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 138,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyTsundere/pseuds/SimplyTsundere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschtein is an average teenager, okay, maybe not. He's the son of prominent congressman Uther Kirschtein, and friends with Eren Jaeger....who seems normal enough for an asshole. However, Jean's life gets turned around the moment Marco Bodt waltzes into Digital Dreams the video game store he happens to work at. Eren seems to know this man, but something about him seems a bit off. Marco is weaving his way into his life more often and it seems that he cannot escape the mysterious man. After finding himself in hot water, staring down the man who'd just killed his father, Jean winds up in the lair of the Soldiers of the Spade. </p><p>Following the events of Saving The Spade, this tale is of Jean and Marco, as a spin-off, and as a partial sequel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Saving the Spade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763391) by [SimplyTsundere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyTsundere/pseuds/SimplyTsundere). 



> Welcome back to the world, loves, or, welcome to the world of the Soldiers of the Spade. A world full of attractively dangerous men and their criminal organizations. If you have not read the story, as Ereri may not be your thing, you'll find that I'm going to go over some details of the story that you'll need without you having to have read it first. I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> Theme Song - Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab

"Fuck! Stupid fucking phone!" Jean tossed his phone onto the bed with a huff as he grabbed the button up he had been using the app on. The app told him it started with "B" before it cut off due to him failing to charge it while he slept. Being colorblind wasn't a challenge most days now that he had gotten used to it, but the fact of the matter was that he was still easily angered when he couldn't tell if his button up was black, a lighter shade of black, a navy blue or a very dark navy blue. Deciding it would be best to just couple it with a pair of jeans he grabbed a pair and slid them on. After doing his hair and checking his piercings in the mirror he sprayed a dash of cologne on his neck and headed out the door.

When he arrived to work he parked on the usual side of the mall that stayed rather desolate so he never looked like a complete moron should he accidentally walk to a car that looked like his. It had been done before since he had no discerning features on his car due to his father making a rule that nothing he determined "punk" on the car. Being a punk had lowered his father's reputation enough or so he was told but now that he didn't live with him he didn't think it was any of his business. A part of him wanted to cover in rock and alternative bands stickers but he knew that would just make him easier to find which he wanted less of. Jon, the family butler, had been nice enough to check in every now an again and assist him if there was anything he needed but he made sure that he never asked for help. Jean was going to make sure that people knew he got where he was going in life on his own merits, not by riding his father's coattails. 

Once walking into the mall he saw the first person he'd be working with, a good friend and manager of the store, Armin Arlert. Armin was a nice enough guy who was the one who got him his job after he heard that he was looking for somewhere. He hadn't even given his way of dress, piercings, or tattoos a second glance when he offered him the job. It was unusual for someone to not be scared of him or assume many other things about him just because of his lineage or appearance, but Armin was one of those genuinely nice people that wasn't met often. After clocking in he headed to the shelves and began helping Armin by organizing the boxes on the shelves while he busied himself with the drawers of the games. 

A few minutes after beginning he heard a familiar voice sting his ears "Hey, Horseface, you know that your shirt doesn't match your pants right?"

Turning around, he checked the store for customers before raising his middle finger at the shit-eating grin plastered to his face "Get bent, Eren. I'm wearing jeans and a black shirt, I match just fine."

Slightly chuckling, he shrugged his shoulders and clocked in walking behind the main counter ""Mhmm, sure, how do you know it's black? It could be a very dark shade of navy and that's hard enough for most people to distinguish between."

"Armin, the shirt is black right?" He walked behind the counter just to make sure, as Eren picked up on his earlier insecurity.

Armin nodded with a polite smile "Yes, Jean, it's black. Eren, stop picking on Jean and go to the back room and help me sort these out. Somehow they're screwy again." As Eren groaned and walked to the back room, Jean grinned triumphantly, knowing he won the battle. If Armin could have been described at the genuine nice guy then Eren could have only been described as the asshole of the store. He liked Eren well enough but he wasn't the guy that he could be friendly with as he was with Armin. Eren was more the type for him to joke around with and pick on to show their friendship more so than anything else but he still considered him a friend even if he was, on the occasion, an ass.

As he busied himself with taking over the register for the night, he couldn't help but laugh as his plan to screw with Eren had gone perfectly. The week before Eren had taken all the labels off the folders in the back room detailing what games were on what systems and misplacing games so he had to spend all night trying to reorganize everything by color using the app HueVue on his cellphone. Payback came swiftly but also affected Armin which he was sorry for but collateral damage was not to be fussed about. While at work the previous night he had taken entire chunks out of the ordering of the games in the filing system and moved them all around. Since they were color-coded Jean was given the chance to not have to deal with it, but it was always Eren's job to keep the system in check and up to date. He knew filing games was the part of the job he hated most so if he could make him do it all night in return for the stunt he pulled, he saw no problem with it at all.

The night passed by without much fuss and on the way home Jean found himself questioning what he was going to do to finish his design for class the next morning. Although both he and Eren attended the same college neither of them had any classes together. While Eren was finding himself in science and math classes Jean was video game design major and often had art classes, which was odd for someone of his condition but he could still sketch, just not color anything. Most of his professors early on had told him because of it that he wouldn't get anywhere in the field, but just like his father he was determined to prove them more than wrong. He wanted to prove that he could not only get by, but that he could excel and that meant his graduating project needed to be big. All his designs for projects would all come together in one large storyboard for his video game but no one was going to know that, at least not yet.

When he got back to his small one bedroom apartment he cleared his ever cluttered desk and began working on his newest sketch for the game, a grotesque creature climbing from the remnants of a decrepit building. Several hours had passed before he was finished with it but once he was he secured it away in his folder and pushed into his messenger bag. He headed to bed soon after knowing that he didn't have much time to sleep before class but he had gone for longer with much less. As he lay in bed, he stared up at the ceiling calculating just how much sleep he'd be able to get if he fell asleep in that very moment which provided only to keep him up longer.

Shining brightly over his face, the sun's morning rays illuminated the room and stirring him from his sleep. Scrambling out of bed, he grabbed his phone checking the time and seeing that he still had a few minutes before his alarm even went off. Sighing thankfully, he disabled the alarm and headed out of the room to go take a shower and get ready for class. The week passed as all the others had, dragging on providing no more amusement than watching a snail try to get from point A or point B. The real excitement came after he had gotten to work the next week after meeting the new girl that Armin had hired. He liked her well enough since she kept to herself, but he had a feeling she was a real bitch most of the time. Upon his first meeting she had dubbed him 'Monochrome' for his lack of ability to see color, which he found annoying but rather funny, like Eren. Her angular features and the way she was so stoic just gave him a bad feeling about her, not to mention the fact she seemed to always be up Eren's ass. He knew that he was training her but her icy gaze never seemed to leave him for long. 

One evening in particular would set of a chain of events that would change his life for both the better and the worst. A man of approximately 6'3" walked into the store wearing a sweater over a collared polo shirt with a tie and slacks. Eren gestured to him with a nod of his head to go assist him as he worked with Annie on something at the counter. More than willing to go talk to the striking man, Jean sauntered over to the man where he stood in front of the shelving perusing the titles. To Jean, he didn't really seem like the type to wonder into a video game store for anything for himself so he didn't expect him to be browsing the rows so seriously as if he was looking for something so specific.

Amping up his charm, he approached him with a warm smile "Can I help you find something."

The man turned his attention to Jean with an award winning smile "Sure can. I'm looking for 2 games, I need to find Alice: The Madness Returns and the new Hitman game. Playstation."

"Oh, a Playstation gamer hmm? I wouldn't have guessed it, now you're a good 4 inches taller than me so you'll probably be able to reach it better than I will, but if we have a copy of Alice it'll be on that shelf there at the top row. I'll go grab you a box to take to the counter to start your pre-order." Jean pointed to the first shelf against the wall before walking over to grab a thin box for the pre-order.

In a couple short strides the man was already to the shelf pulling down the game he required, heading back to Jean once secured "You were right, much easier for me I think. Thank you. What makes you think I wouldn't be a Playstation gamer? Do I look more PC master race or something?"

Jean shook his head casually touching his arm as he handed him the box "Oh, not at all. I just didn't expect it with your business attire, but I am too. I wouldn't have taken you for an Alice in Wonderland fan either."

"Well, Jean, is it? French....interesting. Don't judge a book by it's cover, I just came from work is all, and I work with some elements of the book so I have a strong connection to it. Although, to be honest I much prefer the darker twisted version." Leaning into him, he read the name on his nametag as it hung from around his neck on a Dragon Age lanyard.

At his flawless accented pronunciation of his name, Jean nodded a bit impressed "It is, you have a good lilt when you speak it. I should know better than to do it but I can't help it, bad habit I suppose. I enjoy the darker version myself the Sci-Fi version of it I happen to like best."

"Thank you, I speak a bit of French so it's good to know I haven't gotten rusty from not using it. I enjoy that one myself, now, what do you say you point me to the register?" His warm smile and light hearted tone was all it took to make his heart thump in his chest so he just leaned around the shelf and pointed him towards the counter.

When he realized he had dropped a silver clip he picked it up and headed to the counter "Hey, you dropped this."

Jean handed him his tie clip as he sat the games on the counter and placed it into his pocket "Oh thank you, I could have sworn this was on better."

"Well maybe you should just leave it off, it's a nice tie, but no one can really see it anyways." Jean leaned against the counter and pointed a finger at his tie beneath his sweater.

"Thank you, glad someone else likes it...." as he heard Eren laugh he turned a pointed gaze over the counter and leaned in to read his name tag "What's so funny, Eren, is it?"

Jean noticed Eren freeze a moment before answering him, perhaps a bit startled "Mhmm.....well, uh, he says he likes your tie, but Jean there is colorblind so to him it just looks like a slightly lighter version of black. Jean his tie is red."

Angrily, Jean narrowed his eyes at Eren but shrugged "I was talking about the pattern of tie, but thank you for disclosing that lovely tidbit about me."

"He's right, it is red, but you can like the pattern just fine." The man leaned into him and smiled before Eren brought his attention back.

"I take it you don't have a members card and you want to pay upfront for the pre-order correct?"

"Correct."

"Then your total is $87.27, sign here for the pre-order and I need name to put it under."

"Put it under yours, here, keep the change. See ya." The man tossed a $100 bill on the counter before turning to walk out and leave Eren in a complete state of bewilderment. Pulling one on Eren made him jump ranks on his list of men that he would love to see again. 

Annie leaned over his arm as he held the playing card between his fingers "What's that, and what the hell was up with that guy?"

Jean grinned and said something he knew would snap Eren from his comatose "Hot, that's what was up with that guy. Hotter than Eren's sister which is a huge deal.......well, looks like he's zoning out again otherwise he'd have killed me for that."

Eren was still his head mumbling something to himself "34h, a pocket watch, a club, and an A....huh...Oh, yeah, no I guess it's just a piece of trash. I'll toss it, I'm not sure what's with that guy either. Jean, do you some tissues, could you have drooled any harder?"

"I may need some tissues but it won't be for my drool haha I'm kidding, jeez. Well I'm not sure what to do about his pre-order but you're the manager so you figure it out." Brushing it off, Jean grinned about to head back over to the shelves as Eren thrust a game case into his hands.

"Shelve this while you're at it." Jean tossed him a glare and walked over to the appropriate shelf, placing it between two cases. His attention was suddenly captured and drawn in by the television as the program rapidly switched to a breaking news bulletin. A multi-billionaire oil tycoon had been killed on his yacht while out fishing in the bay area earlier that day. The man's body had been found when tide brought the vessel closer to the docks and someone called in an unmanned watercraft. Apparently the man had been targeted as he was killed by a high powered sniper riffle, but the murderer left behind several clues: a white rose drenched in the man's blood and a playing card, the King of Spades. The name "Soldiers of the Spade" was being tossed around by the news anchors as they covered the story but Jean just brushed off and turned his attention back to his action at hand.

Annie braced herself against the counter and let her pale blue gaze linger on Eren before looking up to the ceiling "Can you believe that crap? Two-bit hacks calling themselves an assassin group. Ooooh, congratulations you killed a billionaire oil tycoon on his yacht. No one fucking cares. What do you guys think about it?"

Jean chimed in quickly "I think they're just some media made up story to scare people. These murders are probably just from random people that they're saying are connected by what? Cards and a rose? Yeah, alright, sure. What about you Eren?"

Eyes darting around his surroundings he shook his head "I uh, I don't really know. Oh hey, it's time for us to start closing up the store." The way he was acting was oddly suspicious but he didn't question it as he really wanted to get home and begin working on his classwork. Once they finished their duties Eren sent both him and Annie home as he stayed to arm the security system and head out the back way once they were out of the store. He had no classes until noon on Fridays and he only had two classes letting him leave campus around 2pm so the fact that he could be home, work on his work and not have to worry about going to bed late was a dream. In reality, he stayed up until 2am working on sketches and storyboarding his video game concept before deciding that it was finally time for him to go to bed. 

When he awoke he went about the usual routine deciding what to wear taking more time than most of anything else he did in a day. After getting ready he headed off to his 2 hours of classes before going to work. Digital Dreams was not his only job, however, no one knew about the other and he planned on keeping it that way. Driving to Entice Dance and Fitness Studio in West Hollywood on the other side of the city made it just possible that he knew no one he knew would be attending his lessons. Being a choreographer and private dance instructor was something he was sure he'd never live down should anyone from work find out about it. It wasn't that he was embarrassed but he knew that once they found others would too then his parents would find out and they'd somehow find a way to stop it if it even perpetuated the idea that the son they "loved" was gay in any way.

The three still had to pretend to get along at his father's state dinner affairs and anytime they had to be in the public eye but Jean was tired of it. He hated having to act like the perfect nuclear family when in reality they all hated one another and he got paid for attending the functions. Getting paid was less like a job and more like hush money to keep him from blabbing or doing anything that could potentially damage his image or reputation. He didn't go to them often but only enough that when the media asked about his private life he pull in his son and wife and pretend like it was all okay. Afterwards they'd all leave in a huff and go on about their own business with Jean getting back to school and going to work like an average everyday normal person.

Just knowing that his father would hate what he did only spurred the desire to do it and do it well. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and the occasional Saturday he went to the dance studio to teach several different classes and even work on his own dancing skills. He assisted a few other instructors if they needed a male dancer, especially ballet when they were going over lifts. His main focus was ballroom dancing, with dances such as the waltz and the foxtrot, but also the tango, the rumba, salsa, pole dancing,and his personal favorite hip hop dancing. Every studio was about the same in West Hollywood offering the same things, but the hardest part was to find a male instructor for those guys that were scared, he even had men come in and ask specifically for him as he was the one of two male instructors and the only one who taught both classic styles and modern, and specifically pole dancing.

Since his studio was also a fitness center he had several classes of his own that were dedicated to hip hop dancing and pole dancing for the pure benefit of having fun while working out. While he had classes he taught he also took clients for private dance Today at 2 he'd be teaching an all women's hip hop dance class, it was one of the classes he really enjoyed just because he got to have fun and the women in class had fun and had gotten past the shy stage with him especially after they watched him dance. He'd have to have been completely oblivious, and not to mention deaf, to not know that the women in his class found him attractive and he used it to his advantage, mainly just to be sure to get them into the dance. 

Every so often after they got a routine down he'd bring one up to dance with him to see if they had it down perfectly and it always ended up fun for everyone, especially since he liked to pick on them and he'd get into the routine letting them play off him. By the end of it everyone was laughing and having a good time as he didn't see the point of a fitness hip hop class being perfect choreography, it should be more about fun to get everyone into the mood to dance. This week he was pulling out a routine from the mid 2000's that he knew the girls would enjoy and find rather fun. The song hadn't been played on the radio in years but he knew that the moment they heard it most of the girls would know what it was.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the backseat of the car, he walked into the studio and off to the staff room where he changed clothes into a white tanktop, black cargo pants, his favorite black hat and a pair of sneakers. After checking his reflection, he pulled his piercings out, tilted his hat sideways just a bit and walked out of the room to get down the hall to his room. When he walked in he put on a large smile and headed up to the front of the room stopping in front of the mirrored wall. He turned around once he rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Good afternoon, ladies. As you know, we started off rather easy and went with a song that had it's choreography planned out with Tootsie Roll so we're gonna have one round of that before we move on to doing our own choreography and then we're have a bit of fun with a preview to tomorrow's song. Oh..but first, excuse me, you must be Caroline, last row 4th in line." He flashed a bright smile noticing that the new girl on his roster was younger than he had expected.

The young woman blushed to the tips of her ears as the other women in the room turned to her "Uh, y-yeah, that's me."

Sauntering over to her he offered a hand "It's nice to meet you, I'm Jean, I'll be your instructor. Don't be shy alright, if you need any help, I'll be walking around for the last bit you can flag me down."

Shaking his hand timidly she nodded "Alright, thank you. Oh, um, is there a dress code or something? I notice everyone is wearing black, white, and grey."

Jean shook his head "No, there's not. The ladies do that to tease me, I'm colorblind so I wouldn't be able to pick out who's who unless I know your face hence why I picked up on you so easily."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Her mortification was unjustified as Jean just put a gentle hand to her shoulder.

"It's alright, it's nothing bad, but I can't look in the mirror and say something like "Pink, 4th row, correct your step. I have to get to know everyone by name. Now, you could be wearing blue for all I know but to me you're wearing a very lovely shade of dark grey. I'm gonna get class started, but if you want to step off and watch today that's just fine." Jean gave her a reassuring glance before walking back up to the front of the room. He headed over to the sound system and selected the song that he wanted to make sure they had gotten down. He'd only had that particular class for 2 weeks so he had only put them on songs that they could practice at home. Now it was time to make sure they had that song's choreography down before moving on to relying solely on Jean for their movements for the next song.

As the music began to play Jean turned to the mirror and began the dance with his hands in front of him bending at the knee as he rolled his hips. Sliding to the left he put his hand at the inside of his thigh and moved to the phrases of the music. The new girl looked more than a bit lost before picking up on the song and shyly dancing with them. Jean grinned and continued for a few moments before stopping to go grab one of the girls from the class by the forearm. He drug her up to the front of the room with him and began to dance back with the song letting her stay by his side as the dance continued. Looking into the mirror he noticed most of the women focusing on his ass as he dipped his back and rolled his hips with the song. Shaking his head, he made eye contact with some of the women as they looked back up only to be silently scolded for their action.

When it was over he put one arm around the girl's shoulders "Thank you for joining me Diane you did pretty well, just be sure to watch the way you slide. Putting too much force in it throws your center of gravity off balance. When that happens it's too hard for you to get back into the correct rhythm in time. Now, the real fun starts today. Lately you've been doing stuff anyone can look up to get you used to the motions, now however, comes the time where you're going to be learning from me. These routines have been planned out for a while, you won't be the first class to use them and you probably won't be the last. You're going to be learning these moves from me now so you're going to have to watch me slowly. If you don't get anything you're going to have to stop me so I can help, if I see you struggling I will slow down. Stephanie from next door is going to help me with this performance." He left them with their thoughts as he knocked on the door next door grabbing one of the female hip hop instructors and bringing her into the room.

She stepped up to the front of the room in front of Jean as they provided a side view "Alright, Jean-y, we doing Promiscuous?"

With a side grin he titled his chin "Oh yeah, now, let me start by saying to my ladies that when you dance this way you don't dance to the words, you dance to the beat. Getting started though I'm going to teach you a bit of both. Watch us and enjoy, I'm gonna bring one of you up to dance with me when it's all over and you learn the routine." At that the women stared at one another with eager eyes and watched as Jean and Stephanie began the routine. Mouthing the words the two began an arms length apart, until Jean slid up to her gesturing to her with a body roll. Stepping into his presence the thin, blonde woman grinned and looped her arm around Jean's neck before pushing him back and shaking her hips to the light chimes behind the main beat of the song.

The two put on a rather close, intimate show as Jean rolled his body and lifted his shirt with a finger as the lyric "I know what I want and I got what you need" passed by. Jean's motions were bold and flowed with the louder bass beat line as she followed the lighter rhythm of the song playing off Jean's flirtations easily. Her coral workout shirt draped open at the sides and scooped low in the front so Jean used it as a way to pull himself to her as he ran his other hand up his inner thigh and slid to her. She laughed to herself and turned around letting her hips shake to the beat as she pushed him back and got in his face. He stepped back pinching the edge of his shirt before releasing it at the end of the song.

All was said and done and Jean looked over to her "Thanks, old woman, not too bad."

She sent a hard punch to his shoulder "You either kid, you've gotten a lot better in the last 3 and a half years. Now, I'm gonna get back before these women tear me apart. Sorry ladies but Jean is gay so it doesn't matter anyway!"

At the chorus of dejected "aww's" and "damn's" Jean shook his head and flipped of the elder instructor as she left "Ladies, ladies, calm down. I'm not gay" at the sudden bright eyed intrigue he shook his head "well, not completely. I swear nothing is sacred or private with her. Listen, you've all been here, minus one, four times a week for about 2 hours for 2 weeks. If there are any questions you want to ask me or anything you just want to say let's go ahead and get it out of the way."

"Are you single?" One girl piped up from the back of the class.

Jean nodded "Currently, I am, yes."

"Is that going to change soon?"

"Probably not, I have far more important things to do. Like teach women how to shake it, teach boys how foxtrot, and work on my classwork."

"Classwork? How old are you?"

"Old enough to be your son, Sheila. 24."

"Well, shit."

"Exactly, anyone else?"

"When you mean not completely..."

"I'm bisexual."

"Ohhh....that's why you also teach pole dancing."

"No it's not, but it might explain why I'm good at it."

"Do you work out? Because holy shit your stomach."

Laughing a bit Jean lifted his shirt up to his sternum showing some his of tattoos and piercings "A bit. Gotta be fit to do this job ya know."

"Oh my god. How many tattoos and piercings do you have?!"

"Hmm, I've got 4 tattoos and I've got 11 piercings, but no they aren't all in."

"So have you ever dated one of you clients?"

"Nope, I have a personal rule against that, but I'll be your dance floor lover any day so how about we get back to it, alright?" With a bright smile flashed, the ladies fell in line and hung on his every word as he began teaching for the day. The women seemed to be very good as far as he could tell with following instructions so he secretly thanked a higher power for that. Once the class was over and his room was empty he began his own dancing. With song turned to All I Do Is Win he began a routine and practiced for a solid hour before returning home. After eating and showering it wasn't long before he headed off to bed and let sleep overtake him.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days had passed with him spending the time as he usually did, with both jobs and extra work piled on top of it. He wasn't particularly thrilled about opening with Armin and Annie but he knew that it wouldn't be so bad. He and Annie were working away diligently in their separate parts of the store when Eren finally came waltzing in, looking far less than enthused about the day. Upon walking in Annie looked up to him from behind the counter and gave him a curt nod while he only scoffed as he breezed past. Armin had left for a few moments leaving both he and Annie as the ones in charge of the store which he could tell made Eren nervous. As the assistant manager he had a feeling that it was his job to worry, but he wasn't planning on setting the place ablaze anytime soon. Eren was clocking in when Armin came gliding back into the store and headed immediately for the back room. Eren groaned and Jean laughed knowing that meant working on the system, scanning in new games into the system, re-organizing the back room, preparing new displays, organizing the systems and making sure the case was locked or any manner of things that was going to keep him busy, bore him, and make him want to roll over and die.

For several hours he was switched with Eren who was sent to work the floor while he worked the back sorting through the new arrivals. Eren and Armin watched over Annie while he was in the back since she was still training but he didn't mind being in the back, especially if it got him away from Jaeger. At the seventh hour of his shift Armin was leaving and handing the keys over to Eren who now had to go relieve him of stock room duty and put him out on the floor and the second register while he watched over Annie. There wasn't really much left to teach Annie as she seemed to be picking up everything surprisingly well, but then again it wasn't so hard of a system to learn. Annie would be in training for another week before they officially let her do anything by herself. It wasn't the greatest system but they were short staffed and the owner of the store had entrusted it to Armin for the most part so they all knew with his smarts that it would be in very capable hands.

While he walked out to the floor and breezed past Eren who was going to store room hell, he immediately made eye contact with the beautiful specimen of a man that had been in the week earlier. He hadn't ever gotten his name but there was no way he could have forgotten his face. He was wearing similar attire as he had been the previous time, a sweater over his collared shirt and a tie beneath it paired with what he guessed were some form of slacks, he looked like he'd be a khaki guy for sure. Turning his head over his shoulder he noticed that Eren was wrestling with the pieces for a new display stand so he could get away with going over to chat with him.

Sneaking around the shelving Jean popped up from the side of the man "Hey there, back again, I see. Anything I can help you with?"

Abruptly turning on his heels, the man met his gaze and smiled "Oh, yeah, I am. Maybe I came back to see you...so you could help me of course."

Jean couldn't help the light laugh that fell from his lips "Hahaha, then I'd say you've got good taste in sales associates."

"I've got alright taste, besides I think the blonde might cut me." His eyes shifted to Annie at the counter before moving back to Jean's.

Before he could respond Eren walked over and dug his fingertips into his shoulder "Excuse us, Jean, we have something to discuss. Go make yourself useful and finish that display."

Jean waved a hand and shook his head "Wait....wait a minute, you know Eren?"

"I do, haven't known him for long though. Do excuse us though, Jean, right?" Grinning as his name rolled so elegantly off his tongue Jean ran over to fix the display practically melting in each step. He had no idea that Eren knew the man but he knew that he'd squeeze him for information at a later time. Trying to put the pieces of the display together as he tried to eavesdrop on their conversation proved fruitless so he began actually putting a bit of effort into the act. When he had it got it halfway completed he heard Eren's voice ring through the store at a much more annoyed tone than usual.

Eren locked eyes with him "Hey, Jean, it's dead here so go ahead and take your break. Annie and I got everything covered here for a bit."

Walking back over he eyed Eren suspiciously "Thanks, 'boss', how unlike you."

"In another manner of things that are unlike me, Jean this is Marco, Marco this is Jean. You're both egocentric assholes that enjoy annoying the piss outta me so there, now get outta my store." Eren raised both his hands over his head as he turned to walk off.

Marco grinned and turned to Eren "I'll remember that Eren. Jean, what do you say you let me buy you a cup of coffee on your break?"

Beaming Jean nodded "Sure, anything to piss off Jaeger." Eren walked behind the counter shaking his lowly hung head as Marco shot him a backwards glance. Jean was busy trying to calm his nerves as the two headed to the Starbucks inside the mall on the bottom floor. When they walked into the store the first thing that they noticed was that it was practically empty so they ordered their drinks with Jean ordering something sweet, a green tea creme while his date ordered what was called a Liquid Cocaine. Jean had never heard of it before so after they paid and went to sit in the food court together he had to ask him what exactly it was.

"First of all, thank you. I didn't expect to have company on my break. Second of all, what in the world is in that?" He might not have been able to make out the colors well, but he could tell it was slightly discolored.

As he pulled his phone out to snap a photo with HueVue, the man gave him a confused look "You're welcome. Now, I know you are not Instagraming _my_ coffee."

Turning the phone around he showed him the screen as it showed the names of the colors in his coffee "HueVue, it tells me what colors are in what. For instance, a photo of you, now this tells me your sweater is...black as is your tie but your undershirt is hunter green. It also tells me that your eyes are brown and your hair is brown-black, and you have tanned skin. What is doesn't tell me, is your full name."

Reaching out a hand, he picked up Jean's hand bringing it to his lips "Marco Bodt, it's a pleasure. As for my drink, well, if you want to know why don't you try it? It's pretty weak."

Jean tried to hide the blush creeping into his face "Uh, Jean, Kirschtein. Oh no, you're one of _those_ assholes. What if I hate it?"

"I am and what if you don't? No time like the present." Offering his drink over the table, Jean reached out taking a careful sip only to immediately regret his decision.

Jean stared at him wide eyed as he swallowed the sip of the vile drink "Oh that is disgusting!"

"Haha, oh it's not so bad. It's just milk, 4 shots of espresso and 4 shots of white chocolate syrup. So, Jean, tell me if your last name is Kirschtein does that make you Congressman Kirschtein's son?" Marco grinned lightly as Jean tried to drink his drink faster to clear the taste from his mouth.

For a moment his lips formed in a snarl before falling "It's still gross, and yeah.....I guess you could say that. Don't let it fool you though, I'm _obviously_ not running any time in my life."

Marco chuckled, a delightful sound as it filled the air "Hahaha, oh, I could tell. The piercings in your face gave it away. I don't think they'll be voting in a kid with an eyebrow ring, a nose ring, lip rings, I think I saw a tongue ring, dirty blonde and mahogany hair, and decent taste in men."

He couldn't help but laugh himself at the observation "Haha, well, you didn't see a tongue ring, you saw _two_. When did I _ever_ say I was here with you as a date, Marco? I could have just wanted free coffee and agreed to come along."

Facial features sharpening he leaned over the table and whispered "You've been a blushing mess since the store. I know better, Jean."

His heavily accented speech on his name sent a chill down his spine "Guilty."

Sitting back in his seat, Marco crossed his legs and smiled "Silly kid."

A bit insulted Jean rolled his eyes "Don't get cocky, and don't call me a kid."

"Oh, and why not, you are younger than me by a few years?"

"There's no way you're older than me by a year."

Marco leaned up "You're what 23?"

"24."

"Yeah, I'm 27, so kid it is." A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as Jean huffed.

"Fine fine, whatever. I have to get back, my break is almost over."

"Well, then let me accompany you." The two stood up and headed back up the second floor of the mall coffee cups in hand.

When the two returned Jean walked up to the counter with Marco at his side when a voice came over the mall speaker "Attention: to the owner of a white, 2015 Stingray, license plate number RTY 6438 your lights are on. Thank you."

Marco rushed a hand to his face as he leaned down to press a light peck to Jean's cheek "Well, looks like I left my lights on. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you. Fino al nostro prossimo incontro, amore."

Trying to hide the furious blush rising to his cheeks Jean just nodded and Eren sighed "Jean, back to work. Marco, that pre-order is going to have your name on it now!"

As he walked out Marco waved "Uh huh, I hear you, see ya."

Turning to Eren Jean sat down his coffee cup on the counter "So....I want everything you know about pretty boy, including what the hell he just said to me."

Eren couldn't hide his amusement "Hahaha, oh that's gold. You asking me for something on him? I'm afraid I can't help you in the slightest, I don't really know much about him. He's a pretty secretive guy...are you that into him?"

" _Are you kidding?!_ You saw him right, of course I'm into that." Jean was almost drooling on himself as he recalled the sound of Marco's voice against his ear and his chilled lips against his cheek.

"I know that he's Italian, but that's all I can tell you. He works with a friend of mine and that's how I met him so we didn't really talk much. If I knew anymore than that I would tell you."

"Right, at least that's that. Italian, huh, I can dig that....oohh, I wonder what he said....I should look that up." Jean was about to pull out his phone before Eren scolded him and ordered him back to work. The night progressed without so much as another bother but that's what happened when he worked Mondays. At the end of the night he couldn't help but think back to how incredibly attractive Marco was and how utterly perfect he was. There was some sass hidden beneath his sweater and polo which he found incredibly endearing. Marco was bold and charming with a smile that could cure cancer and make puppies cry, maybe even create rainbows they were so stunning. It was times like that, seeing someone he found attractive, that he'd wished the lenses in his eyes hadn't been so warped and he'd be able to see color. He wished to see the way the color contrasted to his deep, tanned skin, or the way his, apparently, mocha eyes sparkled in the Californian sun.

After a few hours of working Jean was more than ready to head back to his apartment and wonder just what he had done to be graced with such great luck. His luck, however seemed to have vanished within just a few days. Marco had been seen in the store with Armin, dropping off some doctors note for Eren about him being hospitalized for a kidney infection of sorts. Whatever reason he'd suddenly contracted the illness, it left Jean covering his shifts while he was gone. Eren had said he hadn't been feeling too well for a bit but he hadn't thought it would progress into something as simple as a kidney infection.

Brushing the facts aside he went back to doing his job and hoping that Eren would come back before too long because he was getting real tired of Connie teaming up with Annie and calling him 'Monochrome' when they needed him for something. It wasn't often anything got under his skin anymore but that nickname was beginning to drive him up the wall and it was all started because he was colorblind. He did find it clever as he hadn't heard it before but it needed to stop before he blew a gasket. It had been 5 days since Eren had left and when he got back, Jean decided to take the next day off work. Coincidentally, he'd gotten to work on the same day as Eren.

He hadn't ever been so happy to see Eren then he had been in that moment, but something about him seemed.....happier. There wasn't really a way to convey or explain why, but Eren seemed to have a different air about him as he strolled into the store. Fortunately for him, he got to go home as he clocked in, so he wouldn't have to deal with Annie and Connie anymore. Annie normally turned her bitchy glare towards him so he knew that he'd be able to get out from under her frightening gaze. As Eren walked around the counter and got his things situated he tossed a glance over to Jean, pulling his chin in towards himself. It was a 'Come here' gesture so he headed over to the counter.

From inside his jacket pocket he pulled out a letter addressed to him in the most beautiful, flowing handwriting "Gee, Eren, if you wanted to write me a love letter you didn't have to go all out. I'm kiddin, you couldn't write this well."

Pushing the letter into his hands, Eren scoffed "Mhmm, whatever chicken scratch. I've seen you write labels. It's not from me, turn it around."

He turned it around to see a thick wax seal at the meeting of the envelope with a calligraphic 'M' pressed into it "...Marco?"

"Marco. He's on a business trip right now, but he should be back in 2 or 3 days. He just asked me to give that to you when I got back." Eren shrugged it off casually as he went to work and as Jean moved to clock out. The mystery of what lay inside the envelope was almost too good to resist until he got home, however, he held back and waited until he was firmly seated on the sofa in his apartment before opening it. When he peeled back the wax a light aroma hit his nose, something sweet yet also bitter. It took him a moment to place the smell, but once he did he was certain that it was a type of tobacco. Upon opening the letter and reading it's contents he sat there in a daze.

Jean,

Please call me at your earliest convenience. I wish to procure your services.  
323-744-8920

~Marco

The short slip of paper fluttered down into his lap as he pondered why in the world he'd send something so glamorous only for there to be a single sliver of paper inside. Marco was definitely something else and he found himself to be quite enamored by the suave, mysterious man that had somehow managed to worm his way directly into his life. Whatever it was that he'd wanted, he decided to put off until he was free to do something about it. For now, he needed to worry about his classes, both those he was taking and those that he was teaching. Remembering that he needed to teach a class tomorrow afternoon, he resigned himself to the fact he needed to get some rest before classes to make sure he wouldn't be too tired.

After his second class Jean headed to the studio and stripped down to a pair of shorts and a muscle shirt. Upon entering the class he smiled to his students and began the class by chalking his hands. The metal poles arranged in the class were easily maneuverable, and so he placed his hands on the pole and climbed to the top, hooking a leg from around it before releasing his hands. Sliding down slowly, he smiled and dropped from it, landing on his feet. The students clapped and he began to slowly teach them the move he'd just performed.

Pole dancing classes were not one of his favorite classes to teach tired, but he managed to do it alright. Once he was finished with the class, he was free to go on about his business now that his day was over. Running his fingers through his hair after class, he realized his undercut was growing out a bit more than he'd liked it. Deciding he'd use the scarce spare time to stop and get a haircut, he drove around West Hollywood hoping to stumble across a decent salon that could take a walk-in an just trim his undercut for him. While he aware of the class of individuals in the area he'd hoped his own style wouldn't prevent him from finding a place to help him.

When he finally found a decent sized salon with a 'walk-in's welcome' sign on the door, he parked the car and decided to try his luck. Cutting Edge Studios was located around a few large name, upscale department stores which gave him the impression it might not be his kind of place. Removing his sunglasses as he walked in, he was made more aware by that fact. Even if the colors were heavily muted, he knew white when he saw it and everything in the area looked white and of a ritzy decor. Behind the large receptionist desk, a gaunt woman with pointed features angled her face towards Jean, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. The lightly laced disgust and condescending attitude was obvious, at least to him.

Her high-pitched screech of a voice reached him "May I help you?"

Jean smiled as warmly as possible towards her "Ah, yes. I was wondering if I can get someone to just trim up my undercut."

The woman huffed and began to flip through the schedules in front of her "Hmm, sorry but it seems all our stylists are busy right now. The wait would be around 30 minutes."

"That's--"

Just as Jean was about to continue, a familiar face rounded the bend next to the desk peeking over to the receptionist "My schedule just cleared, Jessica, so I can take a walk-in." Jean's wide eyed gaze scanned over the sight in front of him. Marco was standing in front of him, an apron tied around his hips with various instruments of his apparent trade within it, wearing a short sleeved polo and slacks. He had no idea that his profession would be that of a hairstylist, instead he'd assumed he was some sort of office worker. Marco's eyes fixated on him, lips curling into a light smirk as he noticed him.

"If you want, go ahead, Marco will take you." The receptionist, Jessica, wrinkled her nose in distaste as Marco gestured him towards the back of the open area.

Taking a seat into a plush leather seat, Jean climbed into the chair while Marco secured a cape around his neck "So what did you want done, Jean?"

Cringing as Marco moved so silently behind him, Jean adjusted himself to where he could watch his actions "I just need the undercut trimmed a bit."

"Hmm, alright, about 3/4ths of an inch? Preference on your nape?" Marco was staring at his hair, moving from one side to the other as Jean watched his motions.

Jean shrugged "Sounds good, and I don't really care just do what looks best."

Marco smiled "I think you'd look good no matter what, but anyway, let's get started shall we?"

Grabbing a pair of clippers, he exchanged the blade and set to carefully trimming Jean's hair, moving cautiously as he cleared away his hair "So.......a hairdresser? Never in a million years would I have pictured this as your job."

"I get that a lot, but I don't see why? I mean, do I need to be overly effeminate to be a hairdresser? Have you seen Eren lately?" He ran a comb through his hair as he spoke, evening out the trim.

He nodded "Mhmm, I have, just yesterday actually. I figured I'd call you after work, when I had some free time."

"Why I don't just tell you what it is I need from you while you're in my chair?"

"At your mercy?"

"Precisely so. I happen to be aware of your job, and I'm not speaking of the one at the video game store."

Luckily, Marco's hand on the clippers moved in anticipation of Jean's sharp turn "What?! How do you know about that?"

A slight roll of the eyes and a huff were the response before he spoke, turning Jean's chin back towards the mirror "I know a lot of things. Suffice to say I am much craftier than I appear, so can you help me?"

Breathing deeply, Jean turned his head back to Marco "Tell no one of it, and we'll talk. What exactly do you need lessons in: foxtrot, salsa, tango, a pre-choreographed routine....hmm, ballet...no, exotic?"

"Not quite, the waltz, actually. I have a wedding to go to, and the bride, well she asked me to be the one to give her away since she has no family. The father-daughter dance, we'll be sharing but you see, she picked the once dance I simply don't know how to do."

"You know the waltz isn't a simple dance."

"I'm quite aware...so are some exes toes'."

Jean smirked slightly as Marco finished up his hair "Youch, well, you know I don't teach any waltz classes so you'd need to schedule me for a private lesson. I charge $65 an hour for private lessons."

Marco nodded "That's fine. I need to have it learnt by Friday evening."

Staring at him with more than astonishment, Jean waved a hand "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute you have a week?! It's friggin' Friday!"

"There lies the problem. Think you can do it still?"

"I-I, uh, I don't know honestly. I'm only able to teach on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Friday's and some Saturdays. You can show up after my class tomorrow. I teach from 2-4 so you can show up and see if you can handle it, if I'm not done teaching just wait until I'm done. My classes for that specific time period have been known to run over."

"I can come every single day you're free."

"Hmm, 4-7 is a good time. I can take you after my classes, now what do I owe ya for my haircut?"

"So be it. Oh, you don't owe me a thing, consider it a favor for a favor." Marco unbuckled the cape from around his neck and whisked it away from him as he folded it and cleaned the back of his neck.

Jean stood from the chair and nodded politely, examining his reflection "Alright, thank you. I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Oh, and I never not tip." Opening his wallet, he laid a $50 on the counter of Marco's work space and walked out of the salon with a hand raised over his head. Once back in the car he had a moment to reflect on just what he'd just done. Marco was going to be taking lessons from him for 3 hours of his days and not only that, but he had a week to teach him a dance a lot of people couldn't manage in a month. Banging his head against the steering wheel, Jean huffed, and resigned himself to his fate, driving off back to the apartment where he'd work on his project pieces for class.

The next afternoon he'd been made aware of the party at Connie's house just off campus but he had other things to worry about. Maybe a few weeks ago it might have been the number one weekend destination for him, but he wasn't feeling in the party mood. At the moment, his stomach was more likely to win gold in the olympics with the way it was cutting somersaults. He walked into the studio, duffle bag over his shoulder ready to start on the day but he knew that after his hip-hop class was over he'd be facing down Marco having to instruct him one on one. The thought was more than a bit nerve wracking but he allowed himself to calm down as the women began to flow into the studio.

After a few classes of Promiscuous lessons most of the women were beginning to pick up the moves rather fast which he was proud of them for. He didn't go easy on them at all when it came to the moves he was teaching. They were quick learners and practically done with the song after a week and a half. Ending the song however was going to prove a bit more difficult for them but he had faith. He got started on teaching as soon as it appeared that everyone was there and ready to begin with the lesson.

He hadn't the door slide open as Marco sat with his back against the frame, hiding away from the mirror, watching the last 15 minutes of the lesson. Jean was busy showing the women of the class to roll their body's along with the beat before popping their hip to the right and sliding, to notice his appearance. The women in the class were having boundless amounts of fun as Jean was playing around with them a few times, making silly motions. Marco stifled a snicker or two as he observed, and the moment Jean dismissed the class, he exited the room so none of the women would give away his position. He was more than glad he did so as Jean waited until everyone was gone to switch the music on his phone to his practice song.

With the sound up, and Marco's appearance going unnoticed the song "All I Do Is Win" began playing over the speakers. Jean's body popping to the beat of the song, his flawless transitions in the music surprised Marco and as much as he wanted to continue to watch him, the moment he pulled at his shirt, he couldn't. Just seeing the colorful ink against his skin was enough for him to want to cut it short for fear of his own desires.

As Jean spun into another body roll, a light cough sounded into the room "You done winning there, Magic Mike?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, 2nd chapter end. I don't often put up stories I haven't finished, or aren't halfway done with but I'm gonna see how this works out. I won't be updating every week, but I will just be going at my normal pace. I hope you'll all enjoy it!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses, Neko


	3. Chapter 3

Jean abruptly turned and shut off the music, scoffing as he pulled the fabric of his tanktop "Please, Magic Mike ain't got nothing on this. I thought I told you 4."

He shrugged casually "You did, and I was here 15 minutes early. I couldn't resist wanting to see you dance. Hip-hop? Interesting."

"Mhmm. Whatever, I hope you brought clothes to change into, or at least shoes 'cause those aren't gonna cut it. I need to change myself, so I hope you don't mind if I do so here."

Marco cleared his throat "Oh, uh, no not all. Yes, I do have a spare set of shoes." As Jean walked over to his bag, he pulled out a pair of shoes, and he removed a button up shirt and a pair of slacks from his bag as well. He'd known Marco had just come from work by the way he smelt like a variant of fragrant shampoos, and he was dressed in a polo and slacks. Once dressed in his , he sauntered over to Marco who was busy slipping on a pair of sharp, shining leather shoes. Jean didn't even have to snap a photo of them to know they were black, nor to know just who'd made the shoes or how expensive that they were. He stared at Marco as he stood, waiting for him to finish.

"Armani. You have impeccable taste, however, if those aren't broken in they'll pinch." Jean gestured towards his shoes.

"I won't have that problem, besides these are old, and custom made. They didn't pinch the first day and they won't pinch the last. You mentioned my taste but I know those shoes of yours are Dior."

"That they are. Great minds have great fashion sense it would seem. Now then, we're going to start with the basics. It's a 6 step box pattern, now watch my feet. And, 1,2,3,4,5,6. It won't be so hard if you can handle repetitive motion. The hard part is turning, but first let's get the steps."

As Marco reached out for his hand Jean shook his head "Oh hell no. You're not dancing with me until you've learnt the pattern. I'm not letting you ruin my shoes. Now, I'm gonna stop and I'm place a few pieces of tape of the floor. Each will be numbered and have an L or an R on it, obviously for the step and it's corresponding left or right foot. One step per beat, songs for the Waltz only have 6 beats so you'll take a step for each beat of the song. It's not a very fast paced dance." As he began teaching, Marco was watching his steps carefully in the mirror. After a moment of humming the beat to himself Jean walked forward and began the music allowing Marco to pick up the rhythm as he hummed.

It seemed after several missteps that Marco was about an adequate learner, having no natural talent to speak of, yet being able to pick up on the movements. Jean knew that learning the box step was the easiest part of the dance, the turns and pivots were what threw most people's heads through a loop. Marco didn't seem to be fazed too much as the instruction continued. After teaching Marco for 3 hours he was more than ready to take off from the studio. Marco had bid him goodnight, departing from the studio with promises to return on Tuesday afternoon. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he found himself looking forward to the private lesson and spending more time with Marco, in hopes of learning more about him.

Once home, he checked his mail and headed up to the apartment. He wasn't thrilled in the least when he'd seen he had more than 7 missed calls on his cell phone once he sat down to read the mail. Knowing immediately who the calls were from, he pushed the phone back into his pocket and ignored it as it began to vibrate again. The last thing he wanted to have a discussion with either of parents. He knew it was around the time of the year for his dinner parties and galas that he wanted absolutely no part of. Moving out and being on his own was supposed to equate to no longer having to attend the social gatherings of his parents nor be bothered by them at all but it had seemed that was simply too much to hope for.

Continuing to ignore the slew of various messages and phone calls beckoning him to the estate, he decided to head to bed and pretend as though he had no idea they were trying to garner his attention. The few days he did spend ducking and dodging them, the harder they tried, which he soon came to realize wasn't like them at all. Everyone he'd been around the following days had deemed it necessary to ask him if he was alright, he'd seemed off. Brushing it off as lack of sleep due to the progress of his college studies and his two jobs, it was easy to con those around him into believing such a thing. There was only one person he was incapable of fooling it seemed, and that was Marco.

On Tuesday, he'd been called out on his standoffish attitude as they practiced the steps. Jean tried to brush him off only to receive a glare and a skeptical glance in response. He'd revealed it was something his father wished of him and that was all that he was willing to reveal. Knowing of his father, Marco simply nodded and returned to the dance at hand. Watching his steps in the mirror, Jean realized that he'd been getting better quite quickly, that maybe he was practicing at home or with someone else when Jean wasn't able to instruct him. Figuring that if he'd advanced rather quickly, with just a minor misstep here or there, he'd allow him to practice with him later on Wednesday.

When the time came, Jean was preparing for Marco's lesson and changing out of his hip-hop attire and into his suit. The suit may have been going overboard but if he was going to do it he was going to do it right. 10 minutes or so after his class let out and he'd finished changing Marco came into the classroom dressed rather finely himself. A blazer and slacks with a button up and his dance shoes, Marco looked beyond absurdly intoxicating. Jean's eyes raked over his figure, examining the way the blazer fit around him. Marco glanced up, raising an eyebrow as he noticed Jean was staring. Recognizing that Marco had caught him staring he cleared his throat and began to move over to the taped places on the floor.

After turning on the music, Jean approached his side "Well, good afternoon. I hope you're ready for this, because if you step on my toes I'm gonna be pissed."

Taking his outstretched hand, Marco nodded before bowing his head "I will try my best not to. I take it you're letting me lead?"

Eyes rolling back into his skull, Jean huffed "Of course I am. You have to dance this at a wedding, you may as well assume you're going to be leading there as well." 

"I appreciate that." Marco's lips split into a delicate smile as he began the dance. In the moment Marco began leading them around the floor, Jean's mind blanked. He was enjoying the feeling of breezing across the floor rather easily. It was then that his mind came back to him; it was too easy. The way Marco was moving, flowing so easily with Jean as they glided over the floor, it was all too easy, like he'd done it before. It was clear to him as they continued that Marco had been lying to him about needing to learn how to dance the waltz because he was clearly already rather good at it. Jean made an audible scoff as Marco turned around the area and they were once again back where they'd started.

Continuing the dance, Jean met Marco's gaze "You've waltzed before."

Marco smirked smugly as he shrugged "I might have."

"You've paid me almost $600 in the last 3 days you've been 'learning' from me. Why do that if you can already waltz?"

"I might've know a bit, but I was never this good. How else was I supposed to get you to agree to go to dinner with me?"

Jean's heart skipped a beat in his chest as his words registered "Uh, gee, I don't know....oh wait, yes I do, you fucking ask. Do you even have-"

"-A wedding to go to? Yes, it's Friday, so I suppose I'll be seeing you around now that you've caught me and my ulterior motive." Marco released his grip on his hand while the hand at his waist dropped as well.

Finding himself slightly bewildered, Jean shook his head "Wait a minute, you've paid me for another hour and a half."

Inching closer, Marco bent until he was a fraction of an inch from touching Jean's nose with his own "And what is it that you suggest we do, because I can clearly waltz, Jean. Unless you want to put on a personal show for me, I'm afraid I'll be taking my leave. Keep the rest of that as.... restitution, for putting up with me being an insufferable student."

"Sorry, but I don't dance for people, I teach. If you want to see me dance you'd better be there to learn." Jean managed a slight smile before turning back to walk to the stereo.

Marco grabbed his forearm, spinning him around and back to his chest and whispering into his ear "Oh, guaranteed I would love to learn more dances, especially if I get to watch you move while doing it. You look really great in this suit by the way, Jean. Before I leave, I would like something from you-" Just as Jean jerked away from his touch, Marco's lips were already against his own. The action surprised him but the warmth seeping into his skin took him by surprise more than the action itself had. A delicate, sweet yet slightly acrid flavor lingered on his lips. If Jean knew anything from a lifetime of high society it was the taste of wine, even if it was a secondhand taste. Marco tasted like rich wine, along with just a hint of dark Swiss chocolate. Without much sight to speak of, his other senses had enhanced allowing him to pick up on more subtle things than normal.

As Marco pulled him closer into his chest, dragging him by the small of his back, he placed a hand at his jaw tilting his head ever so slightly. Gaining control of the kiss, Marco pushed him backwards until he hit the closest wall. Not wanting the kiss to wane, Jean met his tenacity, matched his desire with that of his own. Something to him was off about Marco as he began to exude a dominant, aggressive air. It didn't match the personality he was used to seeing but at the point in time he didn't care. In fact, the fact he was being so demanding was part of what made him give in so quickly. The fire raging in his veins was beginning to flare, creating the urge, the unbridled desire to have more of Marco than just the kiss they were sharing. Just as he felt himself melting within the embrace, wanting to beg him for more, Marco broke their kiss, smirked and turned to walk out of the studio.

Jean let himself slide to the floor, practically collapsing into a puddle of his own unfulfilled desire. The arrogant smirk on Marco's face as he'd left refused to leave the confines of his mind even after he'd left the studio. Once he was able to pick himself up, he tried to clear the event from his mind, regretting that his mouth had failed to utter so much as a single sound as Marco left. He wanted to curse, scream, berate himself for not stopping him from leaving, but he knew that for Marco that was more than likely a farewell kiss; a "thank you for everything but now I'm never going to see you again" kiss. Unknown emotions began to swirl around in his head, throwing him through far too many loops than he particularly cared for.

Pulling into the drive of the apartment, he tried to clear his head while grabbing his things and preparing to head up to his place. After gathering his belongings, he got out of the car and headed up to the apartment, keys already in his hand. He reached his door, sliding the keys into the lock when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

"May I help you with that?" As Jean turned his eyes met those of a, older, shorter, ashen blonde haired man in a suit.

Hand over his chest, the man bowed slightly proceeding to make Jean more than a bit uncomfortable "Oh, no thank you. I have everything. I would ask why you're here, Jon, but I know why. Tell them I said to shove it."

Jean entered his apartment, leaving the door open for the man as he would shut it behind him "I'm sorry for having bothered you, Jean."

Sighing deeply, Jean shook his head to the contrary, sat his bag down and walked into the kitchen "I'm sorry that they've sent you out here just for this. You haven't bothered me, they have. Would you like some tea? Wine? Anything?"

The older man managed a light smile "Tea would be lovely......it feels so strange to have you serve me something for a change."

Jean returned the sentiment "You looked after me for practically all my life and now you're in my apartment, it's my honor. Earl Grey I take it?"

"That would be lovely, thank you very much."

"My pleasure, now, would you mind telling me what they need me for so damn badly?"

"The most important event of the election year, your father is holding the annual senators gala tomorrow evening and is expecting to have you there. Here are the invitations, your mother asked to send an extra should you wish to bring a partner for the dances later. They are expecting you but your father instructed me to pass along the idea of you going to this gala and only this one for the rest of the year. Well, aside from his annually birthday celebrations for himself and your mother."

As Jean sat down a teacup and saucer on the short table in front of his couch, he retrieved the invitations from his grasp "And he expects me to attend his birthday, mothers, and this gala? He thinks he can fucking drag me to this shit still?! The initial deal is over, he paid me to go for a while and I accepted it but I'm fucking done."

Taking an experimental sip of the tea, the man nodded "You make a good cup of tea, Jean. Yes, you know there are already 7 others planned for the year. He's decided if you go to the most important he won't ask that you attend the others. Your mother wishes you to bring a nice girl with you, she even gave me this for you if you decided to do so."

He was handed a third envelope from the inner lapel of Jon "I learnt from the best. Oh? What's this-" as he thumbed open the unsealed envelope he was met with the sight of loosely stacked dollar bills "..money. I should have known. You can take this back to her, I don't even want to know how much is inside. She knows better than to assume that I would willingly drag someone to that place to be openly mocked and judged. She had to have said a woman too......god, that harping old crone can't even understand I prefer men."

Jon smiled and took back the envelope from his hands "Thank you. I think she just prefers you show up with a woman for the press that will be attending the event. You know how it would look with you fathers republican reputation if you brought a male suitor along with you. Your rebellion has already been caught on camera several times-"

"And he was lucky he bribed those people otherwise it'd be on television that he can't even control his own child, let alone a group of constituents. If I don't have to go to the others, I'll think about attending, we'll see how I feel after work tomorrow. I do have other things to attend to."

"Your father has asked to speak with you in the study later in the evening to discuss something personal. That is should you attend and no longer wish to attend the other gatherings for the year. I do believe it has to do with his upcoming retirement in a few years but I am not completely sure. He wished me to bribe you with whatever it was to get you to attend as whatever this talk is must be important and he thought it best if I come. You never agree to go if he sends anyone else or so he says."

"He's right. I only go if you ask it of me, I do not wish for you to look bad......so I probably will end up going, if only to preserve your reputation within the estate. There's no need to bribe me, I will only attend should you personally wish it of me."

Lowering his head, Jon smiled warmly "I thank you, I would ask it of you, Jean. If only this once, to preserve all of our sanity. I would also like to ask that you take the money your mother sent even if not to dress a partner. I know it would help you out with things around here as you aren't accepting what your father has been sending to your accounts."

Jean felt the bitter taste of rage begin to swell in the back of his throat "Of course I haven't. I changed banks. I don't want his goddamn money.That doesn't work anymore. He assumes that sending me money will make up for the fact he's a shitty human and an even shittier father! You can tell him I'll be attendance then, but please do not ask me to take his money."

"I ask that you take your mother's, Jean. I know how he was and how he is, but I ask that you do enough to ensure your own care."

"I work two jobs, and go to school, I can take care of myself. I do take care of myself, I don't need his help."

"You're not taking enough care of yourself, I can tell Jean, you're practically my own son. Are you eating okay?"

"I'm fine, I eat, I work out. I've lost a bit of weight but it's nothing to be concerned over."

"I see...I just worry about you, you know. Just please, take care of yourself."

"Fine, leave it on the table, you can go now. I don't particularly wish to let my rage towards that man, and his harpy, get the best of me. I will see you at....9pm."

Rising from the couch, the warmth in the man's shone brightly as he embraced Jean tightly "Thank you. I look forward to seeing you at the estate, Jean."

"Anything for you. Have a safe trip back, Jon." The two hugged one another for a prolonged minute before releasing their hold. Jon gave a slight nod before escorting himself out of the apartment leaving Jean with the invitations and the envelope of money. Sighing to himself, he couldn't believe that he was going to have to go to that and turn around and head into class the next morning. He hated being summoned like an animal for family functions but more than that he hated being summoned like an animal for political family functions. Taking a seat on the sofa, he sank into the plush foam cushion and began reading over the invitation. Always designed by his mother, and always overly cordial; he used his phone to assume it was themed as they always were with golden leaf etched details surrounding the calligraphic black lettering on a cream eggshell background.

Laughing at the specially printed invitation specifically for himself and his plus one, he tossed the cards onto the table and decided it best if he go then to take a shower. Hoping to clear away the uneasy sense of dread already pooling in his stomach, he turned the hot water up until it practically scalded his skin. Hands against the wall, he looked down letting the water run over him as he began to think. He wasn't exactly sure of what to do when it came to taking someone along with him to the gala. It was true he didn't think someone could handle the immense pressure, let alone, the scrutiny that came along with attending one of his family's functions. There were a few women, close friends, from school he could ask if they'd like to attend but more than likely it would be largely misconstrued and he didn't want that in his life, nor the particular friend.

Wracking his brain over the next several minutes, he came to the conclusion he'd be attending the gala alone and it was more than likely better that way. After his shower, he figured it was time to head to bed in preparation for the slew of things on tomorrow's to do list. He knew he was to wear a tux but decided he'd pick it out later when he got back from work. He'd only have a few hours to get ready so he'd hoped he had everything because there was no way he was going to drag himself out to go buy a new tuxedo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, well, Im so heavily into my bad case of the writers block, I'm just going through and giving you things I've already had written.
> 
> Buonasera - Good Evening  
> Piacere di conoscerla - Pleased to meet you  
> Signora - Madame/Mrs./Ma'am

The next morning passed rather slow with 4, 90 minute-long classes before heading off to work at the studio. Dancing around for an hour with his ladies of the hip-hop class served to drastically improve his mood, especially when he saw everyone taking the time to have fun while they danced. He was busy changing for the next class when he received a clipboard that he stated he was getting a new participant in his next class. With a co-ed class it was always a wonder if he'd be getting a male or female student, but then again, with the pole dancing class he always expected it to be another woman. He thanked the receptionist and went ahead to another room, 3 doors down from his own class room. It was a room made specifically for the class rather than for one specific instructor but he didn't mind sharing at all.

While changing down to a pair of black shorts some his students began to file into the room. He nodded to their presence and continued with dressing appropriately, that was until his eyes were drawn to a pair of legs he wasn't exactly familiar with. Scanning up the body of the new person, his eyes then met Marco's face as he turned to introduce himself to the other members of the class. While the class was a new beginners course, having bi-weekly classes and they'd been 2 lessons in already. Marco would have to catch up if he planned on taking the class seriously which he was going to make sure of. Sure, he wanted to use the time to ogle Marco, but he was going to make sure that he would have a legitimate reason to do so.

Once everyone was in the class Jean took his place in front of everyone "Alright, well it's 5, so let's get started. First, however, it seems we have a _new_ student."

Marco grinned as he nodded "Indeed you do. Do you prefer that I call you Mr.K--?"

Jean shook his head as the others turned their attention to him "No I don't. You can call me Jean, like everyone else does. Now, this class has had 2 lessons already so I'm gonna get them started then I'm going to catch you up to speed." Walking back to the front of the room, Jean bent down to place chalk on his hands but found himself distracted as Marco stripped off his tanktop, letting it flutter to the ground at his feet. Failing to completely chalk his hands, Jean approached the pole, turning to his students as he placed a hand to it "Okay, here we go. We're gonna start with a fireman's spin, you guys should remember this one it's very simple. First, place your hand above your head while the other is gonna stay about waist high, start walking, hell, shake your hips if you'd like however you'd like. Third step is to swing your outside leg out and in front of the pole, your inside leg's shin is gonna touch the pole then you're gonna lift off the ground and let your body's momentum carry you around." As Jean demonstrated everyone watched carefully, more than likely remembering their earlier lessons.

When he stopped a man in the front row raised his hand "Hey, can you show us what we're gonna learn today?"

Marco decided to cut in "Actually, why don't you give us a taste of what you can do Jean? I'm new, I didn't get to see the demonstration of your qualified skills."

Jean arched his eyebrow "Oh? Well, I'm _not_ here to demonstrate my skill set. I'm just here to teach."

"You know they say, those that can't do, teach. I'm simply curious as to your qualifications, that's all." Marco's smirk had him rolling his eyes so hard he saw the back of his own skull.

"I am certified by Fawnia Dietrich but fine, I will give you one move. _One_. It's called the Brass Monkey and can be used to both stay stationary on the pole and climb it. To do this move you need incredible core strength and upper body strength. Since this is a beginners course you won't learn this move, but I will show you since we seem to be unable to move on until I do." Forgetting to chalk his hands for extra grip Jean took a deep breath and composed himself in front of the pole. Bending down at his hips, he wrapped one bicep around the pole grasping it from behind while the other stretched further down and he kicked off the ground. Wrapping a back leg around the pole, he settled himself in a stationary position as he outstretched the other completely.

Just as he flipped back up the pole to advance his position, his hand slipped and he slid down the pole a couple inches. The fear wasn't evident on his face but it was on his students, including Marco's, however, he had experienced it before and continued. As he regained his grip, he repeated the motion he had on the floor to continue to climb to the top of the pole. Once at the top of the pole, he lifted one knee higher than the other as he placed it around the pole and leaned backwards. His hands secured around the pole and he pushed off it, allowing his body to go completely parallel from the ground for a few moments before returning to slide down the pole, doing a reverse grab behind his back as he did so.

When he landed on his feet, several of his students clapped and he walked over to the chalk box "And _that's_ why it's important to always chalk your hands, ladies and gentleman. Now, Marco, are you satisfied with my qualifications?"

He scoffed lightly "Sure, but I don't think that chalk is necessary."

Jean folded his arms over his chest "Oh? Then let's see you do a fireman's spin without it, after all, that's the first thing I'm gonna teach you. Guys, watch and learn. I told you always use chalk, or powder on your hands before a routine to keep your grip. Go on, remember what I showed the class?"

"I've been to enough clubs to know what a Fireman's spin is, Jean, _thanks_." Marco set his attention on the pole placing a hand above his head and the other at waist level. Walking around the pole carefully, he pushed off the ground and was suddenly back to it as the harsh sound of his slick hands screeched against the chilled metal of the pole. Jean winced as he watched him almost loose his balance.

"Now then, chalk your hands, and let's get started. Everyone come chalk your hands." Jean smiled facetiously and strutted back to the front of the room. He calmly instructed the remainder of the class with a rather smug attitude and it wasn't hard for Marco to see it, nor was it difficult to watch the way Jean's eyes moved to settle on Marco longer than anyone else. When the others were working on a move titled the chair spin, Jean headed over to Marco to get him started on the second lesson since he had apparently "nailed" the fireman's swing. Still thinking about him almost hitting his face on the ground caused a light snicker to escape his lips while he met with Marco.

Marco sighed as he approached "So, congratulations, you definitely showed me up. Was that payback for the waltz thing?"

Jean shook his head "Nope, not quite. I do have to wonder though, of all my classes that I teach, why was it pole dancing that you signed up for? You couldn't find another way to garner my attention?"

"I just thought it looked like the most fun. It was also a good excuse to get to see you work that pole." With a slight wink, Marco turned his attention away from him and towards the pole "Now, teach me. What's next?"

"Mhmm, of course. That actually was the second move, the firsts are basics like hip shakes, how to do U-turn spins, pole overs, sexy struts, the extreme basics. I did however show them a little thing that I guess could count as the second move. It's called a back hook spin. You just put your hands on the pole like normal, and when you go to spin you lean back, it's just the arch of your back as you spin. That move though makes a lot of people dizzy so I don't often recommend that it be done."

Nodding Marco smacked his palms together, sending up a light puff of white chalk smoke and put his hands on the pole before spinning "So like this?"

Watching more of the tanned abs and toned thighs in lycra shorts, Jean's eyes were trained on his form as he spun "Basically, however the arch should be a little more dramatic. This is showmanship after all."

"I see. I think I'm a bit tall for such an arch unless I wish to snap my spine. Hey, can I ask something?" Marco turned his attention to Jean, who nodded, allowing him to continue "What do you say to dinner after this?"

A bit stunned, Jean tilted his head slightly "I'm sorry? You're asking me out?"

"I am."

"I don't date my clients."

"Such a shame; I'll have to cancel this class, then after this class I'll no longer be your student and you can go out to dinner with me."

Laughing a bit at his determination, Jean shrugged "Sorry, but I have plans after work."

Not wishing to see Marco's reaction, he turned to walk off but was grabbed by the forearm "And what are those plans?"

"A gala, a black tie affair, a boring, stuffy party for my family who--"

"Whom you hate."

"Indeed, but I was going to say whom saw it fit to bribe me to make me go."

"Say, if you hate this family of yours and it's going to be boring what would happened if you b-"

"Brought you?"

"Not what I was going to suggest, but sure, let's go with that."

"They'd talk complete shit to you, berate you, be condescending, or maybe even escort you out.....but it would piss them off to no end, and they'll bitch if I don't bring someone. Do you own a tux?" Jean's eyes suddenly lit up with the brilliance of a thousand suns at the image of his parents meeting Marco.

Recognizing the look, Marco nodded "I do actually, remember, that wedding of mine is tomorrow. Are you asking me to go with you to this fancy gala?"

"Assuming you can dance, look good in a tux, and will piss off my parents to the right degree, then yes, I am. Would you care to join me tonight?" Jean tried his best hand at a seductive smile only for it to be ineffective.

Marco's responding smile made his seem as dull as his time filing discs at Digital Dreams "Sure. I'd love to join you as your date for the evening Jean, tell me, where am I to pick you up?"

Jean paused at the thought "Oh, uh, I hadn't imagined you'd want to drive. I'll give my address once class is over." Marco lowered his head slightly and released the hold on his forearm allowing him to continue to teach the class. While Jean was walking back to the front of the class Marco chuckled delightedly to himself, thankful that he finally had his in and a date with Jean. Unbeknownst to Jean, Marco's ulterior motives had only just begun, leaving him in for quite the rude awakening.

Once the class was over, Jean had slipped Marco a sliver of paper with his address and his phone number scribbled onto it "Here, gala starts at 9, we need to leave my place my 8:15pm to get there on time."

"Sounds good. This means I have about 2 hours to get back to my place, get ready, and be at your doorstep. You remember what I drive?" Marco arched an eyebrow inquisitively as he pulled his shirt back over his head.

"If I remember correctly, you drive a white stingray, somehow." Jean's suspicious tone made Marco shrug as he walked off.

At the door he turned his head "Correct. I'll see you at 8, Jean." The moment Marco took his exit from the room, Jean had to moment to let his decision sink in. Not only had he been instructed to bring a woman, but he'd been instructed to be on his best behavior. In Jean's head he could already tell that Marco was going to be the one to help him screw up the perfect nuclear family portrayal while at the gala. If he was going to be bribed into going then he was going to make them regret even asking him to go. With just the right hint of rebellion, Jean was sure he could secure the fact he'd no longer be asked to the family gatherings. After he'd moved out he'd always hoped it would gradually stop, but even he knew better than to hope for something so out of reach. Getting paid to go however, was the only decent part of the deal.

When he arrived back to the apartment he quickly began to peruse the confines of his closet searching for the tuxedo he knew laid in the hanging in the back. Once he finally stumbled upon it, he gathered all the necessary components and laid them out on his bed before going to shower. After his shower he spent his time in front of the mirror carefully removing his piercings and drying his hair before styling it. Using his phone, he began searching for a decent colored vest and tie. Settling with a deep maroon shade he began to dress appropriately for the evening. With his piercings out, and his attire settled he opted to grab his black wire, floating framed glasses helping to create his look.

Just as he began to finish gelling up the front of his hair and gelling down the sides, there was a knock at his door. Grabbing his phone from the vanity, Jean made his way to the front room and over to the door. When he opened it, he was met with a jaw dropping, picture perfect image of Marco in a shining suit. Without missing a beat, Jean snapped a photo of him standing against the frame of the door. Examining the photo he was intrigued to see him wearing silver and black. With a metallic silver vest, tie, sparkling K cufflinks, and a black spade pin in his left lapel, he was certainly a sight to behold. Of all the things he was wearing, however, one thing enraptured him: the leather eyepatch over his right eye with a silver spade etched into it.

Marco grinned as he noticed Jean's eyes linger over him "Buonasera. Like what you see, Jean?"

Taking a moment to collect himself Jean nodded "I see you look good dressed sharply, and what uh, is up with the pirate look? If this is your not so subtle way of telling me you're looking for 'booty' it was a bad way to do it."

A light laugh escaped his lips as he put a hand gently at Jean's waist, stepping closer to him "Oh, believe me, I say what I want plainly. The eyepatch is because I got hit in the eye with the toothed end of a comb today and it scratched my retina. Last time I do a favor for someone with their child wanting a haircut."

He could resist the urge to laugh at his misfortune "Haha, you poor thing, and the 'K' cufflinks?"

"Misplaced my own, borrowed a friend's."

"I see. Well, I guess we should get going, let me grab the invitations."

"Eh, not quite, I need to do this first." Marco put a bit of force into the pull of his arm, dragging Jean to his chest as he connected his lips to his within seconds.

Jean didn't have time to register the action until the moment it was over "Uh...."

"I wanted to, now come on, let's go." Spinning around, Marco turned on his heels and allowed Jean to go grab the invitations resting on the coffee table. As he licked his lip, he recognized the taste again, the sweet bitter taste of wine and dark Swiss chocolate however this time it was accompanied by the slight acrid edge of what seemed like tobacco. Whatever it was puzzled him, but he pushed away the thought, grabbed his keys, wallet, and headed out of the apartment. He met Marco in the hallway and left the building at his side, rolling his eyes the moment he removed his keyfob from his pocket and unlocked the doors to the retina burning, white overcompensating vehicle.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Jean buckled his seatbelt and typed in the address to the estate into his phone's navigation and gestured to the screen "Just follow the directions." With the directions programmed, Jean leaned his head back against the seat already feeling the momentous knot of dread tying in his stomach. Startled by a sudden pressure on his thigh, Jean jerked his head to the left just in perfect timing to catch the sharp canine peeking from Marco's lips as he smiled. Rolling his eyes, he picked up Marco's hand and placed it back against his own leg. Seizing the opportunity however, Marco locked his fingers with Jean's and laid their hands atop his knee.

For the remainder of the 40 minute car ride, Jean found himself wondering just what was lurking in the recesses of Marco's mind. He'd kissed him not once but twice, had openly laid hands on him, asked him out, agreed to go to his dreadfully boring family gala, attended his classes just to ask him to dinner; he couldn't understand why he'd go through so much trouble just to gain his attention. Whatever his reasoning he fully intended to find out, it wasn't a fleeting moment of lust driven desire he'd felt rushing like fire through his veins in the studio the previous night. Marco made him want to question everything about him, he was mysterious, not having known really much about it yet he found himself suppressing the desire to ask too much.

Deciding to ask a bit, Jean opened his eyes and looked to Marco "Hey, can I ask something?"

"You just did but go ahead, is it something about me?" His eyes never wavered from the road as he spoke almost as if he knew where he was going.

"Where are you from? Eren said something about Italy, but I really don't hear an accent when you speak unless it's what I assume is Italian."

"You were talking to Eren about me? Yes, I am Italian, born and bred. I don't have an accent because I've been here for so long. My accent shines through when I speak Italian, yes. It's hard to not let it slip up then."

"Huh, I see. That's interesting, and yes, I was curious as to what you said to me that day in the store."

Turning his heated gaze to Jean he put a hand at his jaw "I said, 'Until we meet again, love.' that was all."

Swallowing hard, Jean turned his head away from him "Oh....it looks like we'll be there in a few minutes. When you get to the gate stop, I'm gonna have to punch in a code and show my credentials to get inside."

Nodding, he turned his attention back to the road but not without noting the fierce blush across Jean's cheeks "Alright." Once they continued up the road, taking several turns and driving out to a long paved driveway nestled in the hills, they approached a large shimmering, golden gate. Jean watched as the expression on Marco's face hadn't changed when met with the imposing gate. Most people were in awe as they began to see the roof of the estate peeking over the hill. Whatever Marco was accustomed to had to be something just as impressive otherwise he'd have shown some form of expression. Jean shrugged it off and leaned out the window to his right to stick his I.D. and invitation in front of camera beside a keypad.

He pushed in a series of numbers and the gate began to slowly creek open, allowing them to drive past. Jean's eyes stayed forward instead of turning to gardens he used to be so familiar with when he was a child. Like a large labyrinth created of shrubberies and various other flora, the gardens stretched over the majority of the front of the estate created a rather Victorian atmosphere to the place. As the entire estate began to enter the view, Jean sighed exasperatingly. The imposing home towered above everything in the immediate vicinity, encompassing several acres of land for the entire property. With 14 rooms, including a library, a study, a game room, a gym and various other rooms, it was more than just made for entertaining. Jean snorted air through his nose and hoped that they wouldn't make their pompass attitudes obvious as Marco drove slowly up to the roundabout where a valet awaited to park his car.

Taking a deep breath, his door was opened and he was met by the ashen blonde gentleman from his youth "Ah, Jean, I see you brought someone.... _oh_.."

Jean smiled warmly and inclined his head as his gaze shifted to Marco "Ah, yes, Jon good to see you.....this, is Marco. He'll be my date for the evening."

As Marco walked over to his side he lowered his head just as Jean had done "Nice to meet you, my name is Marco Bodt."

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bodt. Your car will be parked around back, Jean can inform you as to where I'm sure." The man gestured to an area leading behind the gardens.

"Indeed I can, now we'd better get in before the parent's freak. I'll be seeing you, Jon." Jean nodded goodbye and headed up the immaculate stairs and into the front of the home where the doors were pulled open for them. Marco glanced around the room quickly noting several things as Jean led him through the throng of elegantly dressed attendees. Attendants were circling the main room of the home with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Jean's arm was in Marco's as the two found their way up a golden and white staircase leading to the second floor where Jean's parent's awaited his arrival.

At the top of the staircase was a blonde woman of about 5'7" in heels and a strapless, glittering violet dress with her piercing blue eyes focused on Jean. His father was wearing a finely tailored suit complimenting his wife's dress color. It was obvious to see where Jean had inherited his looks, the man's brunette hair had greying patches that had once been a similar honey color of Jean's hair. Jean had also gained the striking amber eyes that seemed to haunt Jean as he felt the muscles in his arm cringe as they approached them. Jean's mother wrinkled her nose in disgust as she noticed Marco attached to her son, but it was his father's reaction that stuck Jean as odd; he looked terrified. Only Jean or his mother would have been able to see it but it was obvious to Jean something was off.

Jean cleared his throat as he stopped in front of them "Father, Mother, this is Marco Bodt. My friend, _my dance partner_ , for the evening since you were adamant about me bringing someone. Marco, this is Victoria and Uther Kirschtein, my parents."

Marco bowed at the waist and took his mother's hand kissing the back of her hand " _Buonasera, Piacere di conoscerla, signora_."

She smiled a moment before retorting " _Buonasera._ Thank you, and you as well. Jean, I wasn't aware you'd cultured yourself."

Catching the hint of aggression in her voice Marco decided to answer for him "Ah, you speak Italian? Magnificent. Sir, it's a pleasure to meet you as well."

As he firmly grasped Uther's outstretched hand he grinned mischievously met by Uther's stoic expression "And to you."

Victoria nodded "I do. I did some modelling back in my days in Italy. I've been several times, you have a lovely country."

"Ah, I see, thank you very much. Jean hasn't told me much about you so you'll have to forgive my lack of knowledge." With his smile, he'd seemed to charm his mother, his father however hadn't been swayed.

Uther turned to Jean "Of course he hasn't."

Jean huffed loudly and crossed his arms "Why would I care to? He knows I find you both to be insufferable and I'm _only_ here because I was bribed. I should go find the nearest reporter--"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jean. Why don't I flag you down some champagne, calm your nerves a bit, hmm?" Marco placed a hand on his shoulder casually before turning a glance to Uther from over his shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, sure. That'd be great Marco, thank you." Marco nodded and made his way down the stairs.

Victoria rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips "What the hell is wrong with you?! How _dare_ you bring him here! Did I not send specific instructions for you to bring a _female_ guest?!"

At her sharp lash Jean simply stepped closer to her "Oh the shorter list would be what _isn't_ wrong with me. I brought him specifically because you asked me to bring a woman. Sorry, Victoria, but I like men more than women and you'll just have to get the hell over it. Furthermore-"

Uther cut in before he could finish the verbal assault "Cull your insolent tongue, boy. Now is not the time. I'll be in my study, I have a phone call to make. When I get back you had still better be here, we have rounds to make and then we need to have a chat."

He turned to walk off leaving Jean standing by his mother "Fine, whatever."

"You're such an ungrateful child." Victoria grabbed her glass of wine from the table off to her right before returning.

"Well, I'd rather be considered that than a vile, repugnant, empty hull of what _used_ to be a decent woman." Jean tossed his head to the side as he scanned the room below for Marco.

Victoria scoffed at the jab and simply shrugged "Mhmm, I'm sure. Maybe if you had been born a woman we wouldn't be having this problem."

"Still harping on about that are you? Well you know it's too bad for you all around; I was born with a dick and _sometimes_ I happen to like them up the ass. Enjoy your evening mother, I have a man to find. Cheers." With a condescending grin he raised an invisible glass and breezed past her.

"Heaven forbid! Go check on your father!" As she sputtered the wine back into the glass Jean smirked and carried on with his mission to locate Marco and his champagne flute among the throng of people moving through the place. Walking downstairs, he was stopped a few times along the way for simple greetings by several of his father's acquaintances. As he began to make his way through several rooms that were entertaining the night's crowd, he'd seen no sliver of Marco anywhere. Amongst the night's crowd he figured he'd have been able to spot Marco rather easily but after weaving in and out of several rooms he had yet to find him. Reaching the conclusion that he may have managed to get himself lost in the large confines of the home, Jean set to disappearing throughout the house in order to find him and bring him back to the main area of the house.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, yes, for those up to date on the things going on with yours truly I've gone update crazy. Just take everything with a grain of salt haha now time to get back to our kingly soldier and our prince! 
> 
> Cheers,  
> ♤ ♥ Neko ♥ ♤
> 
> Vaffanculo - Go fuck yourself, basically

Uther Kirschtein ducked around several corners of his home hoping to avoid detection from the obvious target that had somehow been placed on his back. He'd successfully managed to reach his office without being seen. As he snuck into the room, he kept the lights off and went to his desk, removing a cell phone from a false bottom inside a drawer to his left. Hurriedly, he began scrambling to dial a series of numbers that he believed would prevent the inevitable. Just as he began to hear the click of the phone being answered, he managed to whisper "The King of Spades is here." before something whizzed past him and he suddenly felt the chilled sting of metal slicing open the skin of his knuckles. Dropping the phone onto the desk, he hissed and retracted his hand to his chest. It was then he heard the click of teeth and turned to light the room by lamp light. Flicking on the light, the room illuminated with a darkened amber glow; just enough for him to make out the figure sitting diagonally from him brandishing a thin blade in one hand while a cell phone was in the other.

"Ah one moment, I need to finish a text. Now then, Sorry, Mr. Kirschtein. You know who I am and what I'm here for," the man turned the blade around in his fingers as his pearlescent teeth shone in the dimly lit room.

Uther swallowed hard " _The King of Spades_."

"Correct, and I'd appreciate it, if you kept your lights _off_ ," throwing a blade into the shade of the lamp, the bulb ruptured scattering glass about the floor.

As Uther began to make out faint blue and purple glowing lines beneath the man's eyes he nodded "I see, so you _are_ in fact Cheshire. We've had our assumptions as to your role in the organization."

Scoffing, he shook his head "I no longer go by that moniker. Now, Uther, what were you going to tell Kenny about me, hmm? Anything good? I could rip you open, gut you like a pig and play around inside your intestines until you tell me."

Rising from his seat, the man walked over to stand in front of the desk, silver eye shining in the light entrancing Uther the longer he stared "nothing."

"It appears you're of no use alive and you've seen my face so I have no choice."

Accepting of his fate, Uther sighed deeply "let's not pretend that you were going to let me live anyway."

Wicked grin splaying his lips widely, the man chuckled "hahaha, alright fine. I won't pretend like I'm going to make it _painless_. You've never been able to _fathom_ the about pain you're about to feel Uther Kirschtein. I also promise that I will enjoy every _second_ of it. I will _savor_ the moment the light dulls from your eyes like a fine Cabernet."

"Fucking freak. Your warped personality and that goddamned eye are why you and your _whore_ of a mother never amounted to anything in life or The White Rabbit. I'm prepared for whatever you can dish out Cheshire," inching closer, the man leapt over the table, kicking the rolling chair back to the wall and falling into the space it left.

Moving in the flash of an eye, he ripped the tie from his neck and wrapped it around Uther's mouth muffling the sounds he began to make. Ripping open his shirt, a sinister smile danced across the assailant's lips as he shredded the fabric using it to tie his limbs to the braces of the chair. In an instant crimson spray splashed against the hardwood floors of the study, seeping into the cracks.

" _Vaffanculo_. I think I'll have retribution for that little comment of yours. No one, _no one ever_ disrespects my mother," with a heavy handed slash, the stomach cavity of Uther Kirschtein was cut away at in seconds.

Waves of blood rolled over the man's flesh as it was cut away, internal organs suddenly found themselves external, and the muffled screams of agony couldn't be heard over the current sounds from the ongoing gala. Carving away flesh and muscle from bone, Uther's forearms, shins, knees, and most of the newly exposed skin began to be flayed. The assailant ripped off the torn bits of clothing making more skin easily accessible as he continued in his masterpiece.

Reaching a hand inside the opened stomach cavity, he began twisting his hand around in what he knew to be the large intestine dragging pieces of the organ to it's kin, spilling it onto the ground. As Uther's breathing began to slow, a syringe was suddenly stabbed into his chest, the plunger depressed quickly causing him to gasp heavily. Another deranged smile met the man's eyes before he set back to his work. Grabbing a pair of pliers from inside a desk drawer, Uther's fingernails were slowly ripped from their beds and tossed about casually. With the final piece of the puzzle having yet to be completed, the assailant wiped his bloody hands over his face streaking it with the rouge liquid.

Bending at the waist, he lowered his face to Uthers "I'll see you in hell."

With his final words uttered, his fingers pushed into his right eye socket until the gel began to mix with the warmth of blood. Removing his right eye and sitting it on the desk was the last straw. Uther slumped over in the office chair, devoid of life and most of his internal organs as they fell from the open cavity. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps was heard echoing up the hall and he found himself, removing the tie from his mouth and heading towards the veranda.

Jean had opened the door, letting the heavy scent of metal cling to his nostrils. More susceptible to scents, he found himself doubling over before his eyes laid witness to the gruesome scene in front of him. Trying to register what he was seeing, his stomach began to curdle. Rushing a hand to his mouth, he found himself about to retch, but luckily the sudden movement in the corner of the room drew his attention. Silken petals, white as snow, were suddenly soaking up the blood of his father as the rose fell into the various organs at his recently deceased father's feet. Recognizing the signature he rose to his feet, still unsteady as the smells assaulted him.

The man in the window appeared to be wearing all black, he was a bit taller than Jean but there were two things about him that would stick with him forever; a shining right eye and glowing stripes on his cheeks. No other details could be made out of his face but that was the one thing that stuck with him. He wasn't sure how, but it seemed much brighter than anyone's blue eyes. As much as he wanted to look away he found himself unable to. Just as it was haunting and spectral, it was unique and stunning. Jean's blood ran cold as the man stepped closer to him, feet refusing to budge. Luckily for Jean, the man wasn't intending to harm him, instead he flicked something from his fingers, walked backwards to the veranda, bowed with an arm over his chest and made an effortless backflip off the ledge landing somewhere in the garden.

Looking at his feet, a flimsy king of spades playing card landed, but before he could examine it he was met with the ear shattering wail of his mother. She'd walked in just as he turned his head and tried to prevent himself from vomiting once again. His mother screamed for their security immediately as Jean stared completely dumbfounded as he took in the information. Within moments the room was surrounded by their private security and the estate was locked down until the police arrived. Jean placed a foot onto the playing card once he regained his composure. Police officers began to question everyone, while they were distracted Jean pretended to drop his glasses and scooped up both his glasses and the card shoving them into his pocket.

As the police combed the area and swept the area for evidence Jean was called to give his account of what he'd seen. Unfortunately he was not of much help, being colorblind and it being dark there wasn't much that he could do in terms of description. Everyone passed their convalescences and Jean found himself actually hugging his mother to console her. Some of their attendants decided to pass on their respects to Jean as well while he was walking around the estate unsure of what to do with himself. He now found himself as the sole head of the Kirschtein estate.

He'd still not heard from Marco which bothered him but he let that pass as he decided to stay at the estate for the night if not to just preserve his mother's sanity. The woman may have hated him, and him her, but he knew that this was going to be beyond difficult. Someone had without a doubt put a hit out on his father and the fact that scared him the most was the fact he didn't find himself caring. More so than feeling sorrow he was feeling relief, elation, and a myriad of other things he didn't think it was right to feel. Even if he'd grown up abused and had to suffer at the man's hands he didn't know it was alright to be feeling what he was. Also knowing that he'd eventually be asked about how he felt about his father's death by the police once the investigation full began, he needed to try to hide the feelings and sink them down as far as they would go.

The next couple days he refused to leave the estate, go to class, or go to work. It was no surprise to anyone why he wasn't showing up and no one blamed him at all. The murder had been broadcast from the hour after it was discovered and would be until the murder was found and jailed. Knowing it was a hit, however, everyone knew that capture was unlikely. He may had not believed much in the Soldiers of the Spade before but he certainly did then. The course of the following days were him researching the people responsible online and finding only dead end trails about them. He'd given up Friday night as the day had drained him of most of his energy.

Saturday morning he'd tried again without much avail, and decided to drive his father's, now his car, back to his apartment. The funeral had taken place earlier that day and with his father dead there was no longer a need to portray the perfect nuclear family. Jean refused outright to attend his father's funeral only furthering his mother's hatred of him. She'd tried her hardest to bump him from the will but as much as Uther hated his son, he was a true misogynist at heart and had left his wife half of his things while the other half, most of his money, was going to Jean. He didn't want the money, he didn't want his stupid car, hell, he didn't even want something as simple as his last name. To put the creeping thoughts out of his mind, and to celebrate the destruction of the blight on his life, he decided to go out to a club by his apartment. Having never been to The Ace of Clubs he hadn't the slightest notion of what to expect but he had heard some classmates discussing the club one afternoon in his digital art class.

Sliding into a pair of black skinny jeans, a causal black blazer and a white button up with the first 2 buttons popped he decided that he was ready to go out. It hadn't taken him very long to get ready since there was no plans to impress anyone. In most cases he'd be sure to preen for much longer but once his hair was perfect he was fine with going out the way he was dressed. Once he got to the bar and he saw the exterior of the place he was suddenly thankful that he hadn't over dressed for what had appeared to be a dive bar. The bouncer gave him a suspicious stare as he presented his I.D. which he attributed to the fact that he was still probably over dressed for the bar. It wasn't until he got inside that he saw he had been very appropriately dressed. Pulling out his phone he took several photos of the bar, letting his phone tell him of the black, red, white, and silver color scheme.

As he walked past the second bouncer posted at the staircase to his immediate right he heard a familiar voice "yeah, I know. Hey, listen, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm still pretty pissed." Turning his attention abruptly he saw Eren Jaeger almost at the foot of the stairs, talking to someone who had yet to make it into view. It was a far different Eren than the Eren he was used to seeing, his demeanor had strengthened, almost as if he had bucked up somehow. He was dressed in slacks and a button up with a tie around his neck, a good tie, which he thought was odd. As far as he knew Eren couldn't tie a goddamned tie to save his fucking life and that wasn't a zip tie.

"Eren fucking Jaeger. I didn't know you came here," when he called out to him he grinned and folded his arms over his chest.

Stopping cold on the last stair, Eren turned "Jean?! What are you---"

"Oh fuck that goddamn shit. It's alright. Just watch it, it'll get you in a world of trouble and yes, I know we have a bar and I can't smoke down there, Ace, but there's something specific I want....Well, shit," the voice captured his attention stealing it away from Eren almost immediately.

 

He had a feeling there was a reason he hadn't heard from Marco mainly because he was probably giving him space to deal with the death of his father but the last thing he expected to see was him dressed the way he was. A cropped leather jacket with a collar over a button up with the neck open, a pair of black cargo pants and a pair of motorcycle boots with studs across the toe. Undoubtedly looking hotter than he had ever thought he'd see Marco, he couldn't help but shake his head. Not only was he wearing the leather spade eyepatch but his hair was different as small strands fell from his forehead and fell down by his ears which had 3 metal hoops hung through each. His hair was a bit shaggy which he found attractive, but his attention was drawn from his hair as a plume of smoke was blown from his lips as he exhaled from a drag of the cigarette in his left, leather gloved hand.

Stumbling over his own tongue, Jean put a hand to his forehead unsure if the sight he was seeing was real or a figment of his imagination's creation "M-Marco?"

"Who else, Amour? Why don't you let me get you a drink," taking a few long steps down to him, Marco smiled a much more devious smile than he had seen play across anyone's lips.

"Alright, then you can explain this look to me," Marco nodded and led him to the full room length bar that expanded from one side of the room to the other.

He called over the bartender and ordered a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue having the bartender bring him two glasses "here, I take it you don't mind Blue?"

Jean arched an eyebrow to him as he took a glass from his hand "no, I don't. Awfully decent taste you have."

"Thank you, oh fuck--" dropping a lighter from his breast pocket as he bent over to snub out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, he bent down to pick it up at the same as Jean who collided with him in a result "Oh shit." Jean had headbutted him on his way back up as he held the Ed Hardy lighter between his fingers. In the process of when he rose his head he had pulled the eyepatch from Marco's face as they collided.

Marco was keeping his eye closed when Eren's voice came from behind them holding back a short snicker "oh fuck....guess the cat is outta the bag, huh?"

Jean had no idea what was going on until Marco turned over his shoulder to shoot Eren a glare and looked back at Jean with one eye far brighter than the other. He would have recognized the differences in those eyes even if he had been miles off. The eyes of the man who brutally murdered his father at the party Thursday evening. The bright light of the right eye set him apart but he had thought the same thing many times; it was spectacular. Putting his hand down, Marco shrugged and stared back into Jean's obviously mortified eyes.

Leaning over from his stool he closed the difference between them, letting his voice lower and his Italian accent shine through his speech "guess that's that......so tell me Jean, are you scared of me?"

A shiver was sent down his spine as he froze in his seat for a moment before shaking his head to the contrary "....so it was you in the study.....you're awfully showy for a _murderer_."

The moment Marco leaned back in his seat he put a finger over his lips "Shhhh, that word attracts _attention_ , but yes, it was me in the study. I apologize.....that you had to see it anyway. As for my theatrics, I simply thought it to be appropriate, after all, I live up to my name."

The wide sinister smile crept into his lips as Jean shuddered, his mind racing with rage as he realized the only reason Marco got close to him "well pardon fucking me, I think you fucking dropped something."

Opening his wallet, he tossed the King of Spades playing card into his lap "hahahaha, oh good one Jean. You do know that's withholding evidence, don't you?"

"What's it matter to someone like--"

"Me? Well, I only--- Shit," Marco faltered when he saw a man appear to Eren's side.

He was short, had dark hair styled in a high undercut, wearing an upscale suit and tie that Jean "Eren, Marco, upstairs. So sorry kid, but I need my King."

At his words Jean stiffened but steeled himself "yeah, so the fuck do I. We have some things to discuss."

Walking over to whisper into his ear, the man chuckled a seriously frightening laugh "ahaha, you've got _guts_. I take it you found out about how Marco killed your father. Don't be too mad at him though.... _I'm_ the one that ordered it. Now that you know, you should come upstairs as well. You can borrow him afterwards, I'll even let you have the whole meeting room to yourselves."

When he backed up, the smile on his face was almost as frightening as Marco's and Eren sighed deeply "are we bringing him in on this?"

"We have no choice he's seen Marco's face. Come with us kid," the man grinned and Eren shrugged as Jean apprehensively got up from his seat and followed behind Marco and the other man as Eren walked at his side.

The four of them walked up the stairs and down a short hallway comprised of three rooms. They entered the door at the end of the hall and Jean's jaw immediately dropped as he was looking around the office. It wasn't what he expected of killers to be sure, as they seemed to have rather decent taste in decor. Eren ushered Jean over to the desk at the back of the room while Eren walked over and took a seat at the end of the sectional.

The man who had brought him there spoke addressing the people in the room "Suits, attention. It has come to my attention tonight that our very own King of Spades has been made. We all know what happened Thursday night, he went a little overboard and he got carried away. The very witness in question is in the room and happens to be a friend of our own information broker. The question is what to do with him.....I personally don't see a problem with keeping him alive so long as he can keep his mouth _shut_. Any other ideas?"

A short girl at the end of the sectional to Eren's left nodded "I think it's a good idea, Ace. We don't kill people we aren't paid to unless they threaten us, so long as he doesn't pose a threat I don't see why he can't stay."

Marco piped up next "I think we may be able to use him."

The man the girl called Ace turned his head "oh? How's that?"

"Uther was very well connected to Kenny, chances are he has some information laying about in his study. If we can get Eren in he can hack into the system and pull out the files."

Eren shook his head "I'm sorry, what? Marco don't volunteer me for shit, also, I would prefer to stay out of the room where you literally ripped someone's intestines out and played in them."

Jean looked over to Eren who shook his head, telling him to keep quiet as Ace spoke "Hmmm, that might be a good idea. Eren and I are off to Paris tomorrow morning so Marco you'll be on the kid. He's your charge, either burn him in and put up with him or do what you do best. It's up to you. Everyone?"

A thin woman, whom he had mistaken for as a man until she spoke, leaned forward "you want him.... _Marco_ \--- you want fucking _Freckles_ to burn someone in? This _punk_? I get that he could be the tiniest bit useful but if he ever threatened to turn us in Marco'd kill him before he could even breathe a word out of line. What's the point?"

Ace tossed Marco a smirk "because, Marco _willingly_ told him he was the one in the study. He told him, so it's on him to leave him alive and keep an eye on him or kill him here and now before he runs the risk. What's it gonna be Marco?"

Jean was at a complete loss as Marco stood and walked over to the desk where he was sitting "Jean, you have two choices; _live or die_. I take it you would prefer me to not kill you, so I'll go ahead and say what I'm about to do is going to be painful."

Abruptly standing Jean shook his head fury raging in his veins "oh hell fucking no! You're not doing jack fucking shit to me, _you piece of shit_!"

Eren's eyes went wide as Marco's lip twitched and his head titled slightly "excuse me?"

"You fucking _heard_ me. If you're gonna fucking kill me you had better make it quick before I walk the fuck outta here. I want nothing to do with this. Eren, what the fuck is your part in this?" Jean's furious eyes turned to his friend.

"It's a long story, Jean, one I'll gladly tell you if you just sit the hell down and listen to reason. These people are not screwing around Jean. The Soldiers of the Spade? You just walked into their fucking lair. Everyone in here but me could kill you before you blinked. You saw what Marco did to your father, you really want to take that chance? Just sit down and listen. The burn in doesn't hurt as bad as you'd think and you don't need a tracker so you'd be fine."

The intense aura swirling off Marco's skin and the pleading look Eren gave him persuaded him to sit back down "fine, but you're not fucking touching me."

Once he sat down Marco opened his mouth "Oka-"

"Don't _you_ even fucking speak to me," Jean narrowed his eyes as he stared into the one eye looking back at him.

Marco was about to say something before Ace stepped over "alright, if you won't speak to him, you'll talk to me. I'm Ace, and these are my soldiers. You know you've seen our faces and we can't just let you go without keeping an eye on you, plus we need you to get Eren into your father's personal study."

"Yeah, because _you're_ a fucking gun for hire.....what kinda gun, a fucking _water pistol_?" He smirked as he tried to picture the short, thin man with a pistol tracking someone down.

As the words left Jean's lips Ace rolled his shoulder and a blade flew past his cheek leaving a slight slice below his orbital bone "I'm sorry? What the fuck was that you goddamned pissant?! I'm trying to be _nice_ , here so don't be an ass."

Putting his fingers to his face and feeling the warm liquid on his fingers he stared back at him unimpressed "my father did worse, but fine. You want me to get Eren into the study...for what exactly - information? What kind of information?"

Eren cut in "there are people your dad was....business partners with. These people know the whereabouts of someone I care for, Jean. I need to know what they know."

With genuine concern showing in his light watery eyes, Jean sighed "fine....but only for _you_...and _no one_ get's to fucking know that I helped you do anything. If I can just bring you his laptop would that help?"

"Absolutely, and I won't tell them you helped me or that you _dance._.."

"Shut the fuck up, Jaeger. I dance better than you could ever fucking hope to. I didn't get muscles like these by sitting on the couch being a computer nerd."

"You're a _video game design_ major, Jean."

"Still a valid point. So, what, Ace is it? What's up with the whole rose thing and playing cards aren't assassins supposed to be..... _sneaky_?"

Pushing his hair from his face Ace gave him a smile "we are. We only leave calling cards when it's required of us, a lot of hits we do quickly and quietly. Now, Suits, we're dismissed for the night. Jean, can you have Eren that laptop by tomorrow?"

"Sure. I have to go to the estate in the morning to sign some stuff."

"Marvelous. Thank you for your help, just remember we will be watching you. Marco, I leave you two with one another. You have the key if you need it, but you know the drill, you _owe_ me if you use it," when Ace stepped out of the room everyone else fell in line behind him.

Marco jumped up on the table and lit a cigarette allowing Jean to see the faint scar on his cheek "Alright, come on, let's hear it. This room is pretty thick so people won't hear when you scream at me so come on, go for it. You're mad about how I cut daddy dearest into pieces? I did it for _you too_ , ya know."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, welcome back to our Spades! I do hope you'll enjoy the smutty escapades our colorblind prince and our dangerously attractive assassin!
> 
> Tenace - stubborn  
> Hai commesso un grave errore - you've made a big mistake  
> Fantastico - fanstastic/great/amazing etc.
> 
> ~Cheers,  
> ♤ ♥ Neko ♥ ♤

His smarmy, casual attitude was doing more than just getting under his skin so he stood back, moving to stand over the desk push a finger into his chest "No! I'm not fucking pissed about the fact you killed my dad! The man was a goddamned bastard and I'm glad he's dead, but don't you dare pretend that you did that for me. You fucking **_USED_** me! I'm angry because you only got close to me so you could kill him for your fucking boss. What a fucking _dog_. I can't stand the thought of all of this. It's utterly fucking ridiculous that you're so underhanded. Was anything that happened real or was it just to get into the house?!"

Jumping down from the desk Marco walked around to confront Jean, nose to nose as he bent down a few inches "At first? No. I thought you were cute and that'd be it easy to wrap you around my finger. I'm rather good at that you see, but afterwards it got twisted. I'm a killer. I have been for many, many years but somehow you've got my head fucked up. I couldn't kill you if I goddamn wanted to and trust me when I said I thought about it the minute I discovered that I had feelings for you. Me liking you puts you in danger, Jean. I haven't called you, I didn't text you, and I didn't plan on it either because it's best for you to leave me alone. I'm not playing around and I'm not lying when I said all of it was real. That kiss...in the studio? It was the realest kiss I've _ever_ shared with someone. The light kiss in the apartment? I had to hold back because I wanted _so_ much more. You don't understand, Jean, this is.... _I'm_ dangerous. I like you but you don't deserve to be in this and I'm not going to put you in it."

"I don't give a flying fuck! You are not to decide what it is best for me like you're my fucking father! I've had enough of people trying to micromanage my goddamn life. If I like you I don't give a shit what comes with it. I like you for you not for whatever the fuck is going on around you. You don't get the chance to tell me what's good for me and what isn't! I swear to fucking god, you could be the biggest, baddest motherfucker in here but I would still tell you the same thing. I'm not afraid of death, Marco, I _welcome_ it. Death is easy, it's life that scares me. Luckily, however I don't have to worry about that because **_NO ONE_** else will ever tell me what I can or cannot do in my life. It's my life and it's high fucking time I lived it for myself. So, if I were to tell you that I don't give a shit about what you do I want to go out with you again, would you refuse me?"

As Jean's finger twisted into his chest he couldn't help but smile "Easy there tiger. I guess I don't have much of a choice other than to say yes. I wasn't trying to tell you how to live Jean, I was trying to keep you from getting wrapped up in this. Don't get me wrong, you've been fucked up too, but this is more than that. I have a history of things like it, it doesn't faze me anymore. You could barely hold down your dinner when you opened the door to that study. I do those things on a weekly basis, depending how good my contracts are. You should be scared, of not only me, but if the people we're after learn about you like they know about Eren, they will hunt you down and torture you for information on me, on Ace, on whoever. I simply don't want that to happen. I want to protect you by not being with you......but goddamn," he paused a moment, collecting himself before huffing ".... _tenache_."

"Ten what? They can do whatever they fucking want to me, I'm sure I've had worse. I can cope just fine with what you do, Marco. I just...it's hard to wrap my brain around....you thought my type would be more sweater and polos instead of leather and studs. _Shameful._ I'm certainly not scared of you, the man that can't even be bothered to chalk his hands before trying to pull himself up on a pole because "I don't need it." then fell? Oh no, I'm so fucking terrified, not... If you don't want to be with me that's fine, I'll live, but don't put it off with that lame ass excuse. If we're attracted to each other, and you like me and I like you what more is there?"

"Te-na-ce, Tenace. It means stubborn, or strong willed. Jean, can you willingly sleep with a murderer? Can you justify it to yourself? Someone you know has sliced skin back to carve into bone, that's pulled out organs as torture, that's shot people....It's not a light request. I've got more secrets, Jean, these are just the tip of the iceberg. Also, I totally would have been fine but my hands were sweaty."

Hand on his cheek, he smiled "You started it, you kissed me first. I don't care what you've you done just I don't want to know all the details, blood makes me a bit squeamish. I'm standing here because I'm angry, angry that you used me for your ulterior motive but..... I'm only angry because I care. If I didn't care about wanting to be with you seriously I wouldn't be this fucking angry. I find you irresistibly charming, but I'm interesting in learning more about the real you Marco. I've been wanting to willingly sleep with you since I saw you come into Digital Dreams. I don't care about anything else, just show me you, let me know the real you Marco. Show me _all_ of you."

Marco's wide mouthed grin was back on his face "I see...if I started it I might as well finish it. If this is what you want, I'll take you, claim you, make you mine and there will be no going back. I'm a highly jealous man, Jean, and I have a lot of issues. If you still want to do this _show me._ "

"Fucking drama queen," rolling his eyes, Jean grabbed the collar of Marco's shirt pulling him into his chest as he placed his lips against his. One simple moment of initiation was all it took to have Marco lifting him by the thighs and placing him on the desk as he moved his lips down his neck.

"Hai commesso un grave errore, but I'll let you make it as many times as you wish." Feeling the vibration of his lips against his skin with him speaking deeply in Italian and heavily accented English, made his body tremble as the heat sank into his flesh.

"God, your voice..."

"You like my voice? Good, come on, walk down the hall with me." Marco gripped his forearm leading him off the desk as he pulled a bronze key from his neck. The two left the room and headed to the first door on the hallway. Jean was a bit confused but didn't ask questions as Marco unlocked the door and walked over to the bed, leaving the lights off. The room was not what Jean was expecting in the least. It was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming in from the window across the wall revealing a heavily gothic decorated room with a large four poster canopy bed taking up most of the room's space. Jean slipped out of his shoes and shut the door, locking it behind him as he stepped over to where Marco sat on the edge of the bed. Grinning, Jean stripped his shirt and blazer off and moved to sit in Marco's lap where he rolled his body in a slow rhythm drawing Marco's voice from his lips in a light groan.

Jean leaned over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp before returning his hands to Marco "Let me see."

Fingertips at his right eye, wishing to push up his eyepatch, Marco shook his head and placed his hand atop Jean's "It's gonna scare you."

"I'm colorblind, Marco. It just looks a little bright to me, in fact, to me the second I saw it I thought it was both stunning and enrapturing. I couldn't get those eyes out of my head, nor your smile, nor these stripes," his fingers dipped to brush his cheeks before pleading with him again "Let me see it, Marco....let me see all of you." Sympathy and truth edged his words as his voice softened.

Unable to win against him, Marco lowered his head and let Jean push the patch from his face "You're going to need to turn the light out before I open it."

"Why? I can’t get a photo or see you in the dark."

Marco clicked his teeth "Tch, I'll save you the trouble. My eye color is brown and _silver._ I wish we would have been at my place for this."

"Why's that? We can wait."

"No," he grinned mischievously "we _can't._ I generally use a dimmer on my lights so I don't blind myself. I see very well in the dark with this eye, it lets in too much light so it's like having night vision-"

"And if you wear night vision and turn on the lights it can fuck up your eyes. I understand, I'll turn it off."

"Or, I can put it back on and you can see me as much as I can see you. I have an unfair advantage in the dark you know." Marco slipped a hand up his stomach as he spoke hoping to tempt him into making a choice.

Jean shivered and smirked, flicking the light off "Next time. Right now, I want you with _nothing o_ n."

Marco nodded and leaned back pulling his shirt over his head "I can handle that."

Throwing his arms around Marco's neck he found his fingers hitting something at the back of his neck causing Marco's body to tremble "What in the-"

"Mmmm, never remembered that being a function, hit it again. I have my nape pierced. You're not the only pierced one between us Jean." A low rumble sounded in his throat as Jean pulled the curved metal barbell between his fingers. Hoisting him up, Marco looped his arms around Jean's thighs and rolled over, lightly tossing Jean to the bed beneath him.

Looking up, Jean raised an eyebrow "Oh?"

Placing a hand at his hip, Marco palmed his skin gently, moving over the rise and fall of his stomach "What, I can't flip you over?"

Jean grimaced at the sentence "Well you just did so I guess you can."

"Good, why don't you use this moment to tell me what you like?" Marco leaned down pressing a deep kiss into the crook of his neck, letting his teeth scrape his skin.

"Bite me." The words left Jean's lips in less of a whisper and more of a command as Marco's silken hands slid over his chest playing with the captive rings decorating it. Obeying, he clamped his teeth around the muscle at the junction of his shoulder and neck. Jean tossed his head back into the pillows as a rough gasp left his lips while Marco's free hand slid down his stomach and into the band of his boxers. As he made a gentle series of strokes around his cock, Marco smiled against his skin and trailed a line of kisses and short bites down his neck and collarbones only to stop to tease the rising flesh of his chest before slipping any father down. On reflex Jean let his hand go to the back of Marco's head gathering a fistful of his hair and pulling.

Jean's eyes were closed, enjoying the actions and fully unaware of the reaction his own action had on Marco. Gritting his teeth, Marco continued his advances moving his hand a bit faster before leaning over to the side table and pulling open the drawer. Not even bothering to be picky about the selection inside the drawer, Marco's fingers curled around their query and brought the items back to the mattress sitting them at his side while he continued his ministrations. It wasn't that Jean wasn't paying attention as he fumbled around with the retrieved items, it was more so that he was more focused on what Marco's other actions were doing to him.

He returned his lips to Jean in a feverish, demanding kiss as his hand released his length. Jean whimpered into the kiss at the loss of contact as he rolled his hips wishing to accrue friction. Marco slid his hands to Jean's hips, grabbing the thin fabric and pulling it off quickly. Fire bubbled in his veins and desire warped his stomach, feeling it knot as he caught the voracious stare, that oh-so hauntingly beautiful smile, and the glowing lines at Marco's cheekbones. Whatever gods had blessed him with this moment, he wanted to bow down right now and thank them. Marco was gorgeous, far more beautiful than any human had any right to be. A perfect body etched out of marble and a few imperfections on his skin, he noticed, as his hand roamed, but the scars were his stories and he wanted to know all of them.

Marco's actions drug him from his admiring mind to the actions at hand. His fingers curled tightly into the bone of his hips dragging him down the bed in a single swift action. Leaving a burning trail of mouthy kisses and sharp bites down his torso, Marco scraped his teeth over Jean's hips. A light moan tumbled from his lips as he wove a hand into Marco's silken locks, knotting into his hair harder as he pressed a teasingly soft kiss to the side of his cock. His fingertips ghosted up his thighs as he continued kissing his hips and leaving a map of bruised skin in his wake.

"Mmm, M-Marco," Jean moaned softly "p-please just get on with it and don't t-tease me. I've waited too long for you, d-don't make me wait any longer. Please."

At the sweet sound of Jean's pleading voice Marco arched a brow and locked eyes as he ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Jean's cock "Since you asked so nicely." Jean's mind hadn't a moment to think before he was enveloped of the wet heat of Marco's mouth and good lord was he skillful. It was uncontrollable the way his hips shook when Marco twirled his tongue up his length before backing to swirl it around the head and taking his composure as he continued. God, Marco was unraveling him like pulling a loose thread on a blanket, soon there'd be nothing left and he'd be incoherently babbling and screaming for him.

Various moans tumbled over Jean's lips as Marco continued his actions. While keeping him distracted with his mouth, Marco slid his hands up Jean's thighs and around his hips to where he could grab the lubricant from it's place beside him. Popping the cap had obviously given Jean the knowledge of what he was doing, but he was far too lost in the pleasure coursing through his body to even acknowledge the fact he'd known. In the moment he felt the intrusion of Marco's finger his spine straightened and he sucked in a sharp breath. Even though he'd known and had been prepared for this mentally, the action took his breath.

Marco's exploring, thrusting digit along with his mouth working at breaking his rational mind had him reeling. One hand in Marco's hair, the other began to wrap in the shining satin of the sheets, tightening their hold as he entered a second finger into him. Fire beneath a tea kettle; it was the feeling of feeling the rush of ecstasy washing over him. Marco was lighting a fire in him and as his hips rocked back against the intruding fingers the need for it to be stated only grew. This wasn't enough. He wanted Marco, he needed Marco.

In the moment Marco's third finger drove into his prostate, all breath was yanked from his lungs. His back arched off the bed, his fingers released from their entanglements, and his thighs began to tremble. At this point Marco was more than just a bit aware of Jean's current state of sexual inebriation so he decided he'd teased the boy enough. Upon removing the sources of pleasure, Jean's body shivered and sought to immediately replace the friction he was missing.

Leaning over him, Marco placed a hand beneath his chin "You can't see me very well can you, _baby?_ "

Eyes opening and widening at the sudden pet name, Jean shook his head "No, not really. It's kind of hazy with everything being so muted and when you're far back."

"Okay," Marco started, grabbing Jean's hand to place just below his navel at the waistband on his pants "then we'll just have to let you feel your way around won't we?" Jean's mind raced as Marco slid their hands into his pants, departing his hand from atop Jean's as he unbuckled his pants and used the opportunity to discard both his pants and the boxers beneath them. Letting his hands now dip below Marco's hips down to his apparently, incredibly toned thighs his fingers stopped why they brushed a thick cloth band on his right thigh.

"What's that?" He asked cautiously as he let his fingers moved around it.

Marco grabbed his hand and used his free hand to removed the velcro band "Be careful, Jean. It's a sheath for my knives. There, all gone, and now," his voice lowered as he grinned wildly "I'm all _yours_."

Jean took in the information before slithering his hand to wrap around Marco's cock and getting a surprise as he felt the metal "Oh? You have a ladder."

"I do, I got them on a job in Amsterdam a few years back," as Jean's lips curled in a smile and made an experimental stroke around him, Marco grit his teeth "Mmm, now you're testing me. Do you think that's _wise?_ "

Dropping his hold, Jean leaned up to wrap his arms around Marco's neck, fingers tugging at his nape piercing while whispering against his ear "Just shut up and _fuck me_ , Marco." That being said in such a demanding tone right at his ear was enough for him to do as he was told. Not playing nice, Marco met Jean's lips in a fervor unlike anything Jean had ever experienced. Before he knew it he was losing himself in the assassin's embrace once again, scorching heat rising between their bodies. Jean was unable to concentrate on anything other than the way Marco's broad body felt against him, the way his hands felt as they rushed so feverishly over his skin, and the way he tasted, god the sparks of longing desire laden on his tongue was enough to intoxicate him.

He was too far gone into Marco, too lost as their kiss broke and he began to leave his own marks at Marco's throat before he moved away completely. A pathetic whine sounded from his lips as the heat between them dissipated but Marco but doing as Jean wished. There wasn't much more time to think in his head before Marco had ripped open the condom, slicked himself with a layer of lubricant, and moved back to him. His arms wrapped beneath Marco's arms and onto his shoulders as he braced himself on the bed, arms by his head. The feeling of something far different pushing into him caused him to dig his fingernails into Marco's shoulders as Marco's hiss of pleasure reached his ears.

Open mouthed panting as Marco began a subtle rhythm of thrusting his hips, Jean leaned his head back letting his body do as it would. The feeling of the 4 metal barbells dragging along inside him was new and foreign but more than appealing. They applied a different pressure as Marco moved, a pressure that was causing a whole other kind of feeling to pool in his stomach. His hips rocking back against him, increasing the friction being drawn between them, Marco leaned down to steal his lips as his fingers tightened around his hip. Jean pushed into the kiss, hoping to completely lose himself as he tugged on chocolate strands of silk prompting Marco to dig his blunt nails into the skin at his hip. Whatever this was he wanted it to continue, he didn't ever want this to stop though.

Breaking the kiss, Jean's chest heaved with heavy breath as he met his shimmering bi-colored gaze "Oh god, Marcooo."

Marco's strained smirk was sinful as he whispered, winking his silver eye "I'm not god baby, but I'll take you to heaven." He leaned back and lifted Jean's hips on a particularly hard thrust before taking a hold on Jean's thighs and holding them just at his hips to keep Jean's hips angled just off the bed. There was nothing to anchor himself to as he felt his body trembling at the overwhelming feeling Marco was giving him. His fingers clawed and gripped at the sheets while no sounds were held back from his mouth. Screams of Marco's name rolled off his tongue along with directives Marco was all tpo enthusiastic to give. By the time his orgasm ripped through his body, racking every nerve in his body, he was practically hoarse. Marco's climax hadn't been far behind his own as the rhythm he'd created began to falter and he could feel his body shake while his name left Marco's tongue in a strangled whisper.

The two were a mess. A collapsed mess of naked tangled limbs, various bodily fluids and newly experienced emotion. Jean found himself gasping for air, trying to let his breathing regulate as Marco disposed of the condom and brought a towel from the closet to clean themselves. Once decently cleaned up, Jean moved to drape himself on Marco's chest while he grabbed his eye patch and secured it around his head and turned on the lamp, illuminating the room in a soft amber tone.

"My god, Marco," Jean panted looking up at him "that was--"

" _Fantastico,_ " he breathed as he leaned over to press his lips into Jean's forehead, brushing back his hair "I know. I was there."

At the word he shivered and drug himself closer, enjoying the warmth radiating from Marco's still sweat slick skin "Yeah, you were, haha. So I uh, I hate to ruin the orgasm euphoria but Marco?"

He smiled softly as he cupped his face, thumbing over his cheek gently "What's that darling?"

"I think it's time that you told me about you...the _real_ you, Marco. You've bared your heart and body to me, gloriously I might add, now bare your soul to me." Jean placed his hand over Marco's and kissed his palm as he turned his cheek.

Marco turned his gaze away "Jean, I don't think that's a good idea. You really want to ruin this with my life story?"

"Look, as far as I'm concerned I'm going to have many, many more of these euphoric nights ahead of me so yes, tell me." He looked to Marco, meeting the umber eye as it momentarily flashed to him.

With a sigh Marco nodded "Alright, since you put it that way. I was born in Naples, Italy and to put it plainly, I'm a bastard. Of the literal kind. I didn't know my father until I was 15 and by then I was already into a bad crowd."

Jean nodded as he ran his fingers over the scar on Marco's cheek "Okay, so you at least met your dad right? I can only imagine how gorgeous Italy is. I've never been and this whole bad crowd, is that where all these scars came from?"

"Yeah, a few are from contracts like that one on my face. Ace actually left me that one, but I gave him the one on his lip in return. Italia is beautiful, but you're far more radiant. I met my father when he approached me during my training at the Nightingale. I was young and I hadn't ever been told about my father, you see my mother slept with the man because his own wife was barren. She was his mistress and when he learnt he actually had an heir, well he came to find me. It wasn't hard to know who he was, everyone knew who he was and the moment I saw him I knew who he was. It's hard to miss a silver eye. He wanted me to come live with him, my mother and I, because he was sick. The old fucking man was dying and he wanted an ass for his will. I refused and I kept up with my training in the Nightingale."

"The Nightingale?"

"A criminal organization in Naples that trains kids as thieves and assassins once they reach 15."

"What....even I-'

"Kids 14 and under can't be prosecuted in Italy and so there are places that use little urchins like me to pickpocket and do all kinds of crime. I was trained to a criminal from a very young age. I went into the White Rabbit the biggest assassin organization in the world at 19 and my first big contract to prove myself was to track own Ace and kill him. I wanted out as the organization was growing and so once I got caught by Ace and told him I wanted to deflect and join his organization. I paid 10 grand, spent my night there, got burnt in and the next day he tested me," Marco's voice dropped and he reached over the bed, pulling a lighter from his previously discarded jacket pocket and a ring with a spade insignia "speaking of being burnt in....Jean, I have to do this and I'm not going to say it's not going to hurt because it is."

Jean eyed the ring in his hand as he flicked the lighter and began holding the silver ring over it "I uh, Marco what the fuck is that and what the _hell_ are you planning on _doing?_ "

As he sat up Marco sighed "If you aren't burnt in, Ace will do it and believe me, I'll be nicer about it. I promise. This sign will signify that you're ours, you are my charge to care of as I take care of myself. I will protect you and so will a lot more people when they see this because it also makes you a target. Your buddy Eren got his shiner the night he agreed and Ace was not kind about it. I'm going to heat this until it turns black from the chemical reaction, then, I'm going to press it into the skin behind your left ear. It's going to hurt. I'm basically branding you, and there's no going back. Decide if you want me, if you this right now."

Obviously a bit fearful of the idea of being branded, Jean sat up and just took a deep breath "I want _you_ , Marco. I told you. No matter what it means, what it takes, or what it could do to me. I want you and everything that comes with that. If this is what I have to do, then do it. Can I see how it'll heal?"

"Sure." Marco turned his head to Jean, displaying that his spade was behind his right ear not his left.

"Why isn't yours behind your left?" He posed curiously as he ran a fingertip over the brand.

Marco smiled "Because even my mask is different, my marks are on my right and my letter on the left. It's because my eye has to be covered and it was covered with a spade patch so my spade is on my right. I'm just special. Now, take a deep breath okay, clench your jaw," the flame dwindled and Marco put a hand to Jean's jaw, turning his head and pressing the ring into the tender flesh behind his ear.

Jean let out a hiss as the ring melted his skin, but honestly, he could handle this and when Marco released he finally cursed _" **SHIT GODDAMN MARY MOTHER OF JESUS THAT HURT LIKE A SONOVABITCH!**_ "

Tossing the signature ring to the dressed he pulled Jean closer to him and kissed him sweetly "I _promise_ I'll make it up to you," he promised before moving to his ear nibbling at his earlobe before purring sensually "welcome to the soldiers of the spade Jean, it'll be our _pleasure_ to watch over you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic Update - Sept. 15th! :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of an update. For those of you who are on my tumblr you'll know that I had a severe reaction to the shot I received for my wrist at the doctor's office just a few days before the update. I was completely unable to move my fingers or wrist for several days and had to be in the hospital. All is well know and I will be updating soon! Without further adue, the new chapter and the translations you will need for the journey!
> 
> Translations:  
> Darei la mia anima per mia madre - in exchange of my own soul (you will discover more on this later)  
> Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop - Chase away the natural and it'll return at a gallop  
> Ti do la mia parola - I give you my word  
> Sarebbe un onore farlo per te - it would be my honor to do that for you 
> 
> Cheers,   
> ❤♠ Neko ❤♠

Jean twitched at the contact, feeling the painful sting behind his ear “I’m sure it will be. You had _better_ make up for this.”

“Mmm, give me a minute and I can start making up for it _now_.” Marco purred as he leaned in to kiss his neck slowly setting the blood in his veins aflame.

As he much as wouldn’t have minded another go with Marco, he was tired and it was late, plus he wanted to know more about Marco “How about in the morning? I’m a bit tired and I wanna know more. I’d offer to do the same but if Eren is as good as you say he is you probably know all about me.”

Recoiling on his action, Marco leaned back in bed, propping himself against the pillows letting Jean once again drape himself over his chest “I knew everything from the moment I saw you. I had you personally looked into by someone other than Eren. I know you’re smart. Smarter than anyone gives you credit for. A 33 on your ACT, 2025 on your SAT, current GPA of 3.8 and you’re so close to being on the dean’s list. I know all about you, Jean. How you were raised, where you’ve been, down to your immunization chart, and the last reason you went to a doctor.”

“Why in the world would you need to know what shots….you know what nevermind. I’m pretty smart but I’m _also_ an idiot, and I just can never seem to do things right. Since you know so much about me it’s only fair you let me know more about you.” Jean was momentarily befuddled before deciding it was better to change the subject.

“Because, Jean, if I knew your immunizations and I had to kill you I knew what you’d be susceptible to,” he shrugged off the casual detail and continued “though that isn’t quite my style. Hmm. I suppose it’s only fair. Anything specific you’d like to know?”

Jean nodded head all too full of questions “For starters how did you learn English? You speak it so well.”

“Thank you. I learned in the Nightingale as tourist chatter is often used in other aspects. I didn’t really attend school as you may think of it. I was in a way...what do you call it here, homeschooled?”

“Yeah, that’s a way to put it. Geez, you were a fucking criminal from what, _birth_?”

“7ish or 8 actually. I just ran off thinking it’d all be fine and dandy and I fell in with the Nightingale soon after. I remember my reputation making it’s way around the area. I was never subtle when it came to my work. My father sought me out then and I pulled a knife on him.”

“Pulling a knife on your own father? Definitely sounds like you. You started so young….it’s hard for me to imagine a kid doing something like murder. When you said reputation, what did you mean exactly?”

“Well, when people came to the Nightingale for their contracts to be accepted each of us really were known. I signed my work, still do, just under a different moniker. I may be known as the King of Spades now but it wasn’t always that way. Same goes for Ace. Grab your phone and steel your stomach, “ he gestured to the nightstand as he shifted in his position continuing once Jean had his cellphone in hand “alright, look up 'Cheshire Cat assassinations' and see what pops up.”

Jean did as he was told typing the suggestion into Google as Marco hovered over his shoulder. Clicking an article on Interpol’s website of most wanted criminals. As soon as he clicked past the warning his stomach turned. There were multiple images of eviscerated and exsanguinated bodies. It seemed they had weapon they’d secured that had been left behind, an arm’s length blade, curved and thin.

Deciding to bypass more of the heavily mutilated bodies Jean began reading the descriptions of the man they assumed to be the suspect. He’d laughed when they had Marco’s name under ‘suspected identity’ and that was when he saw the different last name they had under aliases.

As he was going to ask about it Marco chimed in with a whisper beside his shoulder “Father’s last name. Let’s say my father was big in the criminal world as well. I’m not as nice as I may lead you to believe Jean. Never have been but this sweet face of mine gets me by.”

Jean rolled his eyes and kissed him gently “I like your sweet face. I somehow feel like I know that last name...Martello. Anyway….so you were known as The Cheshire Cat?”

“Certainly was. I hope you don’t know that name as it might cause trouble and now you know the important bits about me. Although, my time as the King of Spades has been a little less….gruesome. I don’t always make such a mess. Most of the time I’m either up close and personal or way off range.” Marco hummed contentedly as Jean shivered and put his phone back on the nightstand.

“So, I guess, yeah...it just kinda sank in a bit more that you kill people for a living.” As he dropped his phone Marco tugged him back over to his body holding him tightly.

Marco placed a hand at the back of his neck fingertips sliding down his skin slowly “I can’t possibly ever ask you to be okay with it Jean. The only thing I can ask is that you accept the fact I’m a fucking monster.”

“Marco,” Jean placed a hand at his jaw, meeting the gaze of his umber eye “I think you’re batshit insane, gorgeous, caring, sassy, and witty. If you’re a monster than so am I and I don’t mind that. Whatever you are, however you see yourself, doesn’t matter to me because you’ll never be able to see what I do. We’re both just fucked up people trying to make it in a fucked up world.”

A chaste kiss was laid at his lips, he could feel Marco smiling against him “We’ll make it. Now, we promised a laptop for Ace and Eren so we had better go to sleep huh?" Jean nodded and curled into Marco’s side, not caring about his lack of dress. It felt more than right to him to be laying with Marco, naked, limbs wrapped around each other and feeling secure, and safe in his arms. His skin was warm and still a bit slick, but it didn’t matter. As far as Jean was concerned he was in the one place that mattered, the only place that would ever matter, and that was at Marco’s side. With that thought on his mind he soon found himself drifting to sleep.

Jean awoke to Marco raking his fingers through his hair and kissing him gingerly on the forehead “Buongiorno, Jean.”

Weakly managing a smile he looked up to meet Marco’s gaze “I haven’t a clue what that means, you know.”

Marco reached down to tilt his chin up as he claimed his lips delicately “It means good morning.”

“Mmm good morning Marco,” Jean blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust as he looked around, laughing internally at Marco’s insanely out of place bedhead “haha, I think this is the only time I’ve ever seen you with a hair out of place.”

“Perhaps that’s true. You gonna run off now that you get to see me in all my morning glory of bad breath, hair in various directions, and still naked?”

“Haha, really? I’m a colorblind nerd who dances, drools, snores, and probably has far _worse_ bedhead.”

“Mmhmm but you’re still hot even when you drool lakes on my chest, snore so loudly you wake me, and look like you’ve been in a hurricane all night. C’mon. Time for a shower and to get ready to go.” Marco snickered as he unwrapped himself from Jean. Jean let out a sigh as he watched Marco roll out of the sheets and begin to turn on the lights. Tilting his head to the side he examined Marco's body much more clearly as he shuffled stark naked around the room. His eyes were focused on watching how the muscles in his body moved as he stepped around the room but more importantly they fell to the tattoos on his back.

A gorgeous array of flowers surrounded the name "Camilla" on his left shoulder blade along with the words "Darei la mia anima per mia madre" around the flower's petals. He wasn't sure what flower it was, something foreign he was sure, but it was stunning. The other of the two surprisingly took up much more of his back than he'd expected. So much of last night was dark and hadn't allowed him to see much but this was incredible. In the morning light the dark ink on his skin was a quite a compliment. A sickle and chain encircled a bed of chrysanthemums with a familiar flowing scripted M in the center. The words "Cosa Nostra" rested above the 'M' while the words "Capo di tutti i Capi" rested below it. He hadn't the foggiest notion as to what it meant but he'd apparently been staring for too long.

Turning his head over his shoulder Marco grinned "Didn't see enough last night?"

Feeling his face flush at the words Jean stammered "I-I, I wasn't s-staring at--- Dammit Marco! I was looking at your tattoos!"

"Oh," slinking up to him after sliding into a pair of boxer briefs Marco stopped in front of him "the passion flower on my shoulder is a tribute and the other is well.....the other is nothing but a curse and a burden. If you ask about mine do I get to ask about yours?"

Shrugging he nodded "If you want. I know you said you could speak French so the one across my chest is pretty self explanatory: Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop and ivy wrappings. The right thigh piece is a koi circling a lotus, a blood stained, weathered bird cage and broken doves' wings down my left side, and the left calf piece is a pocket watch I'm not done with yet."

Marco seemed a bit intrigued "You have the equivalent of "a leopard can't change it's spots" on your chest. That one I get. You can tell me more about the others later. Come on, Amore." Jean rolled his eyes at the lack of explanation of Marco's own tattoos, since he wanted the stories behind his own, but willingly crawled out of bed. He didn't exactly want to get out of bed but it had to be done as there were things to do. Once he finally had his feet firmly placed on the floor he felt a little achy but overall alright. Walking around the room he gathered up his clothing while Marco went off to the shower down the hall.

Slipping into the previous evening's clothing felt awful but at least he wasn't very far from home and he could shower and dress appropriately. Marco seemed to have clothing stored in the closet of the bedroom which seemed a bit strange but he brushed it off. By the time Marco returned he was dressed in a charcoal grey suit, with a white dress shirt, complimenting tie, and not a hair was out of place. He looked incredible. Jean stared for a moment allowing it to sink in before he shook free from the enchanting sight, gathered his things, and headed out with Marco.

As the two reached the parking lot there was a silent argument over who's car to take so Jean just sighed and allowed Marco to drive. It had seemed that Marco had recalled the way to Jean's place without the need for GPS. Jean leaned his head against the door during the duration of the ride back while his fingers laced naturally with Marco's. He found it comforting, a bit nice as well, that Marco offered his hand out for him. When the time came to get out of the car ad get up to the apartment he sighed and reluctantly exited the car.

Marco stayed silently by his side while he spent his time running around the apartment deciding on his clothing choice. He'd liked the fact that he hadn't commented on the current state of his frayed mind because honestly he hadn't a clue as to why he was so worked up. Seeing his mother again, the people who'd raised him, going back to the study where Marco had brutally ended his father's life, and he was worried over clothing choice? Ridiculous was his first thought. When he finally decided on his attire and moved to shower he left Marco to his own devices inside his apartment.

In the shower he mostly let his thoughts try to clear. The last thing he needed to do was be on edge while in front of that vile woman but he had Marco.....yeah. He had Marco to be here and give him that boost of confidence should he need it. It felt strange that just being around the aura of commanding intelligence and danger was enough to make himself buck up. Just thinking of Marco beside him so well dressed put a rather devious smile on his face. Rubbing his mother's face in the idea of Marco was starting to make him giddy instead of frightened.

He decided then that there was nothing to make him nervous or frightened so long as Marco was at his side. Climbing out of the shower he began to dress just as how his mother would have hated. Grabbing the tightest pair of pants he owned, a pair of mid-calf combat boots, a clingy white v-neck, a beanie, and a leather jacket. All of his piercings were left in and his tattoos were visible beneath his shirt. If this didn't stick in his mother's craw nothing would.  
  
Stepping out of the shower he grabbed his things from the coffee table then glanced around the room. There was something missing: Marco. Darting his eyes around the room and trying to listen for acute sounds he finally pinpointed his location. Marco may have been an assassin but he was seriously mistaken if he thought he could sneak up on him. Centering himself in the middle of the room he waited with closed eyes. The footsteps were getting closer to him and as he spun around to grab Marco and open his eyes he was met by hot liquid splashing onto his wrist.

"Oww!" Jean recoiled and dropped his hand from Marco's as the coffee burnt his skin "What the hell, Marco?"

Marco had to keep his snicker quiet "While you were in the shower I figured I'd bring coffee. It's your fault for spilling it on yourself." He moved softly to the table to sit down the cups before pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the liquid off his skin. Jean watched as he wrapped it around his hand carefully before removing it. There was no way he couldn't feel like a complete idiot now. Marco had brought him coffee like the sweetest thing and he had been a dork and spilled it all over himself.

"I'm sorry," he lamented "I didn't think-- I thought you were trying to sneak up on me and scare me."

Flicking him lightly between the eyes Marco laughed "Hahaha, oh? Why do you think I'd try to scare you? I think I've done enough of that."

Jean's features flushed a bit as Marco spoke to him in that soft yet playful tone of his "I-I, uh, well, you know what I don't know. It's not like you can get the drop on me anyway no matter how sneaky you are."

Eyebrow arched Marco's voice took a turn for the devious as he reached to cup Jean's cheek "Hmmm, you're cute, thinking you can overcome 20 years of ability. We'll test it another time. Right now we've got to get you to the estate so grab your coffee, your keys, and let's head out." His breath stopped at Marco got so close to his face, his heart raced in his chest, and he found himself only able to nod from beneath that gaze. He found himself aware of just how dangerous that gorgeous face could be. Full lips, freckled dusted tan skin, big round doe eyes, and a shining smile: it'd all be the death of him.

Marco chuckled as he watched the swoon. Rather pleased with himself he led the way back to the car and crawled into the driver's side. Jean sipped his coffee trying to calm his nerves as Marco beamed rather ecstatically. The almost hour drive was filled with Jean going in and out of sleep. He was still a bit tired but that was to be expected. Songs filled the air between them mainly drowning out the silence that had since settled. His stomach was churning as they approached the house as he was very well aware of the fact this would be his last visit.

The imposing gate began encroaching into his field of vision so he leaned over Marco, punched in the gate code, and held up his I.D. "It's Jean." After a few agonizing moments the gates creaked open allowing them entrance. Jean moved back to his seat feeling his stomach begin to twist as Marco slowly pulled around the horseshoe drive. Jon was awaiting them as he always did for guests. Climbing out of the car he gave the older man a half-smile and hugged him.

"Welcome home, Jean." He spoke dutifully.

  
Jean shook his head and looked to Marco before turning back "No, Jon, _this_ isn't my home. This is the last time I'll be here in this god awful place but you know where to find me. Feel free to come by."

"Certainly. Perhaps then I'll enjoy another cup of tea," he lowered his head towards Jean and rose to look up to Marco "and hopefully your gentleman _caller_ shall be present?"

Smiling widely he nodded "Why of course, Jon, though I think he prefers boyfriend."

"I prefer whatever it is he finds necessary to call me in the manner," Marco beamed lowering his head to Jon, surprising him a bit, "I would like to thank you for seeing to Jean. I heard he was a brat in his youth, though he still is at times."

A hearty chuckle left Jon's lips "Hahaha, he wasn't the easiest child to raise, by no means, but he is the best. Please ensure the care of the young master for me while I am no longer able."

Surprising them both Marco bowed lowly, hand over chest, left ankle behind his right "Ti do la mia parola. Sarebbe un onore farlo per te." 

"Grazie," Jon replied almost instantly, only adding to Jean's state of shock, "I had a feeling I knew you were Italian."

Marco titled his head, a bit puzzled himself, "How is that pray tell?"

Jon's face fell as he looked to them both, voice dropping, "Because, before I came to work for the Kirschtein's I worked for a home that brought me on vacation with them to _Florence_. Mr. Bodt, I say I might know _who_ you are and I might _not_ have a problem with it, however if the stories I heard are true you must have some rather _unique_ qualities about you."

"My, my, time in Italy before Jean was born? I promise I'm not t _hat_ old, sir. I should however introduce myself in the way I think you know me," beautifully cunning smile donning his lips, Marco straightened his posture and extended a hand "My name is Marco Martello, I am the heir of the Martello family and Capo di tutti i Capi."

The expression on Jon's face widened in a bit of, what Jean would have guessed was, terror before softening "I see. That does explain some things. I humbly ask of you that you just do not get my boy messed up in those affairs."

"I can assure you that the title is not one I carry of my own will. Were I acting as my title I wouldn't be here so do not fret, that part of my life was handed over. I never wanted it. Now, we do have some business to attend...." Marco trailed off with a smile as he glanced towards the door.

Jon moved swiftly, despite his age, towards the door opening it for them "Ah yes, please, go ahead. Jean, please see me again before you leave if it isn't too much trouble."

As they passed through the door Jean nodded "Anything for you is never trouble, Jon." Marco paused as he stepped through the door awaiting Jean to be at his side before continuing. Once Jean was there to lead the way around the winding bends and straightened corridors Marco relaxed at his side. Not that he hadn't expected it somewhere, he'd just hoped not now, Jean looked up to see the shining face of his mother outside his father's study. This is not going to go well he thought as he watched her features sharpen and contort with obvious disgust.

"Oh how positively lovely," she scowled as she looked to Marco " _he's_ back. I suppose that would make him--"

"My boyfriend." Jean interrupted bluntly.

Her features deepened as she scoffed "Ugh, how great, just trample all over your father's memory by bringing _him_ here."

Jean's stomach was knotting, twisting, and churning but with Marco at his side his retorts seemed quicker and sharper as he lashed out "I'll do a goddamn tap recital while I'm in that bloodstained study for all I care you _vapid cur_. Oh, and Victoria, you shouldn't have to worry about seeing me here again since you should have 2 weeks to get your things and leave. Last I recall Uther left the house to _me_ , so, take your money and find a nice apartment."

Marco couldn't resist snaking his arms around Jean "That was absolutely _savage_ , honey. I _love_ it."

In that instance Jean let his bravado fall, heaving a sigh, as he leaned into Marco's chest "I love that you love it." Without a care to his mother's agape mouth to his right he pushed up on the tips of his toes to place his lips on Marco's. Delighting in the moment Marco slipped his hand to Jean's lower back to drag him flush against him. He wouldn't have normally done it in public, but this was to piss off Jean's mother, so he let his hand slide lower to firmly grope Jean's ass. The slight gag heard from Victoria as she quickly shuffled away from the sight had been well worth the display.

Breaking the kiss, and releasing him from the embrace, Marco pushed open the study door "Well, thank you. It looks like we have access now so let's get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: TBA on tumblr - more than likely the 3rd or 10th of October as I will be participating in JeanMarco week 2016 and need the remaining time to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!! So long as my health, and the internet, prevails I should update every two weeks!
> 
> Translation:  
> Buona notte, Amore - Goodnight, Love
> 
> Cheers,   
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Jean gave a slight, unintentional, pout but walked into the office. His senses were suddenly awash with the scent of ammonia, chlorine, and other various cleaning products. While it was plainly obvious, by the lingering odors permeating the air, that the room was being cleaned the room was still a disaster. Most of the area behind the desk was still heavily stained, blood smeared into the wood floors and the scent of metal mixed with cleaning products. Jean's stomach gave a flip the second he stepped behind the desk to begin pulling open drawers.

Across the room Marco began perusing the filing cabinets "Sorry that this place is messed up so bad."

Jean shrugged as he grabbed the laptop from the bottom drawer "I don't really mind now that there aren't organs on display everywhere, I mean, was that _really_ necessary?"

Voice as serious as he'd ever heard it Marco nodded and met his gaze "He called my mother a whore. **Yes.** "

"Note to self: my 27 year old assassin boyfriend is a momma's boy." Jean smiled playfully as he took in the information.

Marco glared at him a moment, umber eye reflecting hues of bronze, "Watch it. My mother is the only person I had in this world for many years."

Walking over to him Jean batted his lashes "Hey, well, now you got me and your assassin family."

"I suppose so," he reflected as he thumbed through files in the drawers "but I'm not finding much in the way of your father's plans in here."

Jean shrugged his shoulders "I don't exactly know what I'm looking for so I don't know how much help I can be." He turned to walk back to the desk with Marco on his heels. Marco examined the right side while Jean set to searching the left. After several minutes of searching the room they weren't having much luck. Jean was still in the dark as to what exactly was going on but he tried his best to help Marco. Moving to a different area of the room he left Marco to further investigate near the desk. His attention from brought back to the desk when Marco called out to him after a few moments.

"Hey, come check this out," Marco called out as he crouched behind the desk "look." The last placed he wanted to be was on the floor but he obeyed. As he got closer he soon saw what it as that he was supposed to be seeing. One piece of the flooring wasn't stained and that was because it hadn't been the same type of wood. It was plastic.

"What is that?" Jean posed curiously as Marco pulled out a pen.

Marco grinned and pointed towards the edges of the plank "Look, the blood ran right off it and down into the cracks. This is a false piece of hardwood flooring so I'm gonna pop it up and see what your father was hiding." Jean watched as Marco clicked the end of the pen, unleashing a hidden blade, and popped up the plastic plank. Reaching his hand down into the secret cubby Marco pulled out a thick stack of papers stuffed inside a manilla envelope. The edges were damp, soaked in mixture of various fluids from blood to bleach. Without an ounce of hesitation Marco flipped open the folder and began sifting through the papers.

Deciding to read over his shoulder Jean took a peek at the papers "What in the--"

"Your father kept stocks in these businesses both of which seem to have been owned by the man we're after. It gives me some new information to give to Ace. I think we searched enough everywhere else to know that this place is clear of anything else. Grab the laptop and let's get out of here." Marco shut the file folder and turned back to Jean as he picked up the laptop. Jean didn't much care to spend anymore time in the house so he agreed and practically rushed out of the room. His horrid shrew of a mother didn't seem to stick around but that was far more than okay with him. On his way out he was given the keys to the estate by Jon along with a series of letters he was told not to open until he was safely at home and away from prying eyes.

After a hug from Jon he got into the car only to be tossed the key fob by Marco. As he pulled a second cell phone from his breast pocket Jean simply nodded: assassin business. He was half excited that he got to drive Marco's car, because fucking hell that bitch was sweet, and the other half was interested to listen in on his phone call. While Marco was growing increasingly frustrated as the person he was calling wasn't answering the phone.

"Tsk, testa di merda." Marco clicked his teeth, scoffing, at whoever wasn't picking up their cell.

Jean reached over placing a hand on his knee "What's up? Who are you cursing?"

Marco flourished a wrist "Ace isn't answering his calls that shithead. Also, two hands on the wheel please."

"I've seen you keep one hand on this thing but okay. We should be back to the club before too long." Jean gave a signature eyeroll as he took his hand from Marco's knee and placed it back to the bottom of the steering wheel. He could tell just by looking at him that Marco was antsy, he was fiddling with his fingers, his knee was shaking and he was biting at the skin on his lip. It wasn't hard to see that he needed to be doing something with his hands. Perhaps Marco it was strange for Marco to have to sit still which was why he was always doing something with his hands.

He let the thought vacate as he seemed to have dozed off against the side of the door. The papers were settled neatly in his lap while he dozed. The window was rolled down, just a hint, enough to let Marco's hair gently blow with the breeze. Oddly enough, he looked so peaceful laying against the door. It was certainly fooling. Who would have thought someone as sweet looking as Marco was a ruthless killer.

"Stop staring at me." Marco groaned before shifting over.

Jean question "How did you even know?"

"I _felt_ it so keep your eyes on the road." He responded dully. Jean did as he was told and focused on his attention back to the road. There wasn't much to do aside from focus on driving in hopes of not injuring Marco's Stingray. He'd probably be gutted like a fish if he so much as even looked at the car wrong. It was rather clear that Marco really loved his car more than a normal human being would, but he should have expected that one.

Getting back to the club had seemed like it had taken an absolute eternity. Marco was still lightly resting against the door fluctuation between consciousness. Jean began wondering if he'd slept well last night. Fortunately, he awoke when they pulled into the parking lot of the club and Jean parked the car right beside his own. Marco yawned and stretched before crawling out of the car joining Jean. The two walked silently up to the meeting room of the club.

Once inside Jean tossed Marco the keyfob and took a seat on the sectional. Now was a good time to withdraw his phone and use HueVue to examine the room. Of course. Why would it differ from the color scheme downstairs? Everything was various shades of white, silver, crimson, or black. With a sigh he shoved his phone back into his pocket and decided to try to open up his father's laptop. He was too busy trying and failing to log in to notice that Marco had left the room.

Upon Marco's return he slid the laptop away from him and tossed his legs over his lap as Marco sat "I give up on that fucking thing. Maybe Jaeger will have more luck. I used everything I could possibly think of."

Marco sighed and took his hand lacing their fingers together "To be fair you didn't know the man well enough to guess what kind of things that he may have used for his password."

"Yeah," he began a bit dejected leaning his head on Marco's shoulder "I guess you're right. Hey, did you ever get a hold of Ace?"

Ruffling his hair a bit Marco grinned "I did earlier this morning after my shower. They should be here within the half-hour but I wanted to call and let them know we got what we needed."

"I see. Is he awful far out? And you said they?" Jean looked up at him a bit confused.

"Mhmm, Ace and Eren will be joining us. They're about 4 hours out, coming from Vegas."

"This early in the morning? They were in Vegas this early?"

"Ace works in Vegas mainly though he also has a job here as a librarian on some days."

"So what, they went back to Vegas because Ace had to work?"

Marco rubbed the back of his neck trying to dodge that particular question "Ah, well, something to that effect. You know it's almost one in the afternoon right? Not really morning anymore."

When Marco chuckled Jean shoved him a bit "Oh shut up!"

Throwing his arm over his shoulder Marco drug him to his chest "Easy there, tiger, haha. C'mon. What do you say we---"

"Alright, love birds stop fraternizing on my sofa." As Jean turned, the short man Jean knew only as Ace took a seat and Eren joined him as Marco tossed them a look.

Marco rolled his eyes "So...we may be the lovebirds but what does that make you two, huh? Ace I thought that you were a professional."

Ace shot him a glare "Do not doubt my professionalism Marco, Mr. I'm-dating-the-kid-who's-father-I-killed, what is this as sci-fi film? He is not my subordinate and what I do in my bedroom isn't any of your business."

Jean looked over at Eren with wide grin as he noticed his shirt practically falling open to reveal his bare torso "Hey, what happened to your shirt?"

Eren flushed, which Jean had never seen before, and rubbed the back of his neck "I was doing some stuff and the buttons popped off."

"Yeah sure if that guy's _name_ is stuff and _he_ ripped them off." Gesturing to Ace he turned around in time to catch the tail end of his comment.

"I'm sorry, what was your name? Marco did you burn your boyfriend in yet? If not I'm going to and I'm gonna enjoy it." The man's sharp gaze pointed to him and he could only pause.

Recoiling from Ace's statement Jean turned to Marco "Does he threaten people like this often? It seems like a very hostile environment babe."

Marco grinned and gave another slight roll of his eyes "Yeah, I did. His spade is shining this morning for sure. Now, let's get down to business," Ace and Eren sat across from one another letting him continue "alright so here's the deal. Eren, the laptop is yours. I imagine you can find something on it that we can't get into. Paperwork wise, Jean's dear old daddy wasn't the smartest person. He kept a paper trail under the floor and I happened to notice some blood slip into the cracks so pardon the stains, that's my bad. It seems that Kenny is getting craftier in his old age Ace. He doesn't just operate out of Paris anymore, there's a place in Frankfurt as well. Hanji could be in either country so you really need to crack porn stashe and figure out what's up. Eyebrows and sniffer are gonna help right?"

Eren was at a loss of words as he took the laptop from Jean and Ace responded to Marco "Pierre was always terrified of me so I don't foresee a problem with getting him to speak before I kill him. If there is I have my ways of getting someone to speak."

"Ahh, man, that's nasty. Ace, don't sleep with him." Marco's features scrunched in disgust as Eren fought to hold in his as well.

"Didn't plan on it but he doesn't need his fingernails to speak, or all the blood in his body. I would find a way, just tell me, what was your father planning kid?" Ace turned his attention to Jean who shrugged.

He looked a bit curious about what Marco had said "Uh, do you often fuck people you plan on killing? I don't know what he was planning. I just know that in these notes he talks about something happening with this Kenny guy. I don't know what it means since I haven't been let in on the details but apparently my dad was working with this pharmaceutical company in this Pierre guy's name and whoever it is was, was sending . There might be something more on the computer. I can't believe you're trusting Eren to get into it but hey, not my prerogative. I always knew Uther was underhanded but I never would have thought he'd pay people to kill people and get to his place of power."

Ace shrugged and wore a new grin "I was the one taking those hits for him and no I don't fuck targets. I use seduction as a technique to get them where I want them often. Eren is more skilled than you give him credit for."

Jean turned to Eren "Is he serious?"

Pulling open the lid to his own laptop, Eren took Jean's father's as he smirked "I don't think he comes in other models than uptight and serious. Let me see those files, might be something in there to help me get past this.

When he finally cracked it he turned the computer around and smiled at Jean "I can crack almost anything so long as I know some things about the person, and that's what this baby is for. Your father was a sentimental man, not for you but for a dog....na"med Duke Reginald III, like what the fuck. I would have never guessed the password on his computer would be the damn thing's Westminster Kennel Club's registration number. Now then, let's see what Uther had hiding in here.......Oh shit. Levi....I think you need to see this." Eren got up to cross the short distance taking the laptop over to Ace as he squeezed into the space between Marco and he.

He leaned into Ace catching a light waft of his cologne as he read the screen "Fuck me.....Marco, this is bad. He's got someone in the area. Someone is here, has been here and according to this they last spoke with him and said they know where Eren is staying among other things. Eren, look at me, have you talked to anyone?"

"Uh, I got awfully drunk last week and talked to a guy at a party but I didn't say anything about where I lived. I didn't even mention I went to the college."

"Shit. Are you sure there wasn't anyone else?"

"Positive. I don't get to talk to much anyone since I'm kept like a goddamn house pet."

"Hey, you have your freedom, just Marco follows you everywhere."

Jean interjected as the two bantered "Uh, wait, so that's how you know Marco?"

"Duh, Horseface. How else? He's like an overbearing babysitter. I never know where he's watching me from somewhere I know he is. He came into the store because he has to keep his not-fucked-up eye on me."

Marco raised his middle finger causing Jean to snicker "Oh bite me Eren. I watch you from a safe distance with a scope unless you're at work or here. Now, I can verify that while I was here, he didn't speak to anyone out of the ordinary aside from the punk that hit on him at the party. I wasn't here for that but he was wearing a mic."

Eren reached over to punch him the shoulder "You bugged me?!"

"You're always bugged, as let's see, that is the same jacket from last night. I'd say check your third button but knowing Ace, he removed it for you."

"I did and it's probably crushed or picking up the sounds from the ranch."

At Jean's confused expression Marco leaned over to him "Ace's place of work."

Then turning to Eren Jean raised an eyebrow but he brushed it off "So, what's up with you in all this Eren? You did say you'd spill it."

With a heavy sigh he nodded "Long story short, I owed some people some money from when my dad skipped out on us and from my mom's hospital bills. I tried to count cards, got caught, ended up owing someone, worked for them breaking into places, stealing some things, broke into the wrong place at a bad time watched Ace torture a dude, my boss got kidnapped, and now they're after me because I can tell them -his- whereabouts as well as Marco's who they also want dead."

Slowly blinking he turned to Marco who nodded "That's about it, don't worry, I'm not going to let them find me. We're taking them out first. It's kill or be killed in this life but don't worry I'll be just fine."

Jean made a point to say something but was cut off as Eren commanded the attention with his recent find "It looks like that isn't all. He might have more than one person here, there are more than one report sent in and the speech patterns are different. I think our trip to Paris couldn't come at a better time. Digging a little deeper, it was clear that Kenny was planning something as he spoke to Uther about a big show whatever that's supposed to mean."

Ace sank his head to his hands "Fuck....If he said there's gonna be a show we don't have much time. I know what he's planning for Hanji and this isn't good, if she doesn't spill she'll be the star of her own show. We need to get to her fast. Marco, we need to get Eren up to speed, are you wearing your blade sheaths?"

Marco shook his head "No, I'm not, but they're in the other room if you'd like Jean to run and get them."

"That'd be great. Jean, would you mind retrieving those for me, they're the black bands of fabric Marco was wearing on his bicep and inner thigh which I'm sure you hurled to some unknown part of my bedroom." Eyes widening he nodded and headed out of the room with a blush rising to the tips of his ears. Jean had made a mad dash out of the room after Marco kissed his cheek. He wasn't exactly sure of what he was looking for, he didn't sling anything off Marco, he'd removed that band himself. If Ace asked him something however he was fairly certain he should do it. It hadn't taken him too long to find the thin bands tossed to the side of the bed.

"Fine, fine. It's nothing I can't handle, geez, you'd think were worried about catching something." He smirked as Jean walked back through the door.

Stepping up to Ace he handed him the bands "Thank you, now go sit down. Eren, stand, and strip. Marco and I need to teach you how to use these now. You have today only so pay attention."

It was Eren's turn to blush as he looked to him "Uh, can I change in the bathroom?"

Jean grinned and folded his arms over his chest "Why so shy Jaeger? What're you trying to cover?"

Ace sighed and waved a dismissing hand "Sure but someone is going to have to put these on you since you don't how. Your options are Marco or me."

Marco rose from his seat and kissed Jean's cheek "I'll volunteer. I did it for him last time anyway. You stay here with Jean. I'll be right back, babe." Internally Jean was freaking out. No. Marco didn't need to leave. He didn't want to be left alone with this man. There was no connection like he felt to Marco to this Ace person. Jean was pretty sure this man would kill him without so much as blinking with the way he'd ran off at the mouth. It wasn't his fault he just had a bad habit of speaking what came to mind.

While the Marco and Eren were away Ace turned to him with a grin "Relax. I'm not going to kill you. You're the group's charge now and I suppose Marco's lover?"

Choking back his own saliva and nervousness he nodded "Yeah, uh, that's right. I guess you and Eren are an item?"

His raucous laughter took him off guard "Oh no, we're just conducting business."

Quirking a brow, Jean drawled his words and rose his hands as he curved his fingers "Riiiggghhhhtttt. _Business_."

"I'm an escort so yes, business. Now, while you wait on our lessons to finish I suggest making yourself comfortable. I have no idea how long it's going to take that fool to grasp the combat release system." Ace flourished a wrist as the company of Eren and Marco walked in. There was an obviously awkward air between the two as he watched them interact for a moment. Something had been said one way or another and it was painful to watch but it seemed to have gone ignored for the most part.

Laughing at him trying and failing to catch the blade sailing down his sleeve, Jean watched intently from the couch doing the only thing he could, which was laugh harder. If Eren was being an idiot then Jean was going to laugh at him for it. After several hours scattered to the wind it seemed that Eren had finally grasped the concept of the hidden release mechanisms inside the small sheaths. It wasn't hard in theory as even he had it down from watching but he did have the suspicion that it was much harder in practice. For the most part it was Marco giving him his instructions as Ace watching chiming in from time to time. Before the two headed out the plan was discussed and then the club was once again left in Marco's care.

Jean really didn't have much of an idea as to what had taken place but all he knew was that he was tired again. They didn't have to stay here tonight and it was simple that they should probably go back to their own places. It was only just now evening so they could still spend some time together before that but as to what would happen afterwards he hadn't a clue. Tomorrow he'd have a shift both at Digital Dream and at the studio so it was a wonder if he'd even get to see him tomorrow. Without thinking he let out a rather exasperated sounding sigh and leaned his head back onto the sofa.

Marco was pouring himself a glass of wine from behind the corner bar when he spoke up "What's the matter, Jean?"

Looking over to him Jean managed a half smile "Well, it's just that I don't know when I'm going to get to see you again after today."

Sauntering over to the sofa Marco slipped his free arm around Jean's waist "I'll _always_ be around. It's my job to skulk about so if you ever need me know I'm never too far away."

Eyes locking to Marco's he placed a hand on his cheek "I'm not so sure about that. What if I want to laze around, watch bad horror movies, and order take out? Hmm?"

"Then I'll be there," he paused for a moment as he sat down his glass then placed his hand over Jean's "w _hatever_ it is that you wish for I'm here to grant."

Jean rolled his eyes a bit "Anyone ever tell you that you're cheesy? I have to work most of this week at both places since Eren will be gone and I have classes."

"I see...I suppose I do have a contract I could do that might take me a day or two," Marco began before Jean derailed his train of thought.

"Nope I don't think so," Jean met his gaze fiercely "no murdering this week."

"That's my _job_ , Jean. Do you pick and chose when you go into work?" His voice remained calm, almost soothing, as he spoke.

With a heavy eye roll Jean huffed "Well I know for a fact you can choose when you wanna work otherwise you wouldn't be a frigign' hairstylist."

Marco leaned back as a raucous laugh escaped his lips "Hahahaha, I like being a stylist thank you. Eren is the one actually fielding my contracts for me as of late so with him gone for 2 weeks I suppose I can take a break. I do have to work at the salon tomorrow and a couple times throughout the week, so if you aren't busy you could always come by and have lunch with me or something."

He felt as though it was one of the best ideas he'd had all day "I might be able to swing that. I can check my phone to see my studio schedule but I get out at class at noon, go into DD right after get out at 5, and then head to the studio for, I think, 2 classes tomorrow."

"Alright. You know you can always text me when you're free. I generally try to take my lunch around 1 but I'll always make an exception for you, who knows," he grinned as he paused "maybe I'll come in and surprise you at a work place."

Jean quirked a brow "Oh? Is that because you want to tell all the ladies I instruct that they can't ogle me anymore? They might get sad and drop the class. I can't have that."

"Then I guess," he reached over to the table to take a large sip of his wine before returning to climb into Jean's lap "I should mark you so well that they know you're someone's." Before he could think on the proposal Marco was already pushing the jacket from his shoulders and placing his lips at the side of his throat. Whatever godly power Marco possessed to make him forget everything with the simplest of touches was obviously working. The very moment those intoxicatingly sweet lips touched his skin he already found himself turning his neck to give Marco more room to work with. His fingers reached for Marco's hair weaving through the dark silken locks as he managed to avoid the leather strap to his eyepatch.

"Mmmarco," Jean hummed as Marco's teeth just grazed his skin "you're just teasing me now."

Lavishing his kisses down his throat to his collarbone as he pulled his shirt away he hummed against his skin "Maayybbeee I am. What are you going to do about it, hmm?"

"Take it," Jean managed to rasp out as Marco's sharp canines tugged at his skin "for now, though at some point I may get tired of it and throw you off me."

Releasing him from his, nearly suffocating, embrace Marco straightened up in his lap "I'd rather not hit the table behind us so I suppose I'll be nice and leave you with that."

Slinging an arm around his hips Jean drug him closer "Sounds good. Now kiss me instead of my neck."

"Certainly." There was a slight snicker from Marco before he connected his lips to Jean's softly, once, twice, before pulling himself away and getting to his feet. "I have to be getting back to my place now."

Jean groaned and got to his feet as well "Yeah, me too, unfortunately. I'll see you sometime tomorrow maybe?"

Marco stepped over to him and embraced hi tightly before placing a gentle kiss at his temple "Of course, now you go out first, I have to lock this place up. Buona notte, Amore."

"Goodnight, Marco." He pushed up on the tips of his toes and slung his arms over his neck for a proper goodbye kiss. The two would have lost themselves in the smoldering heat in the kiss had Marco not been the one to break it. Jean whined slightly at the loss but knew it was for the best. When he departed he dared not turn back lest he wish to have flung himself into Marco without a care in the world. In all honesty, maybe that was exactly what he wished or maybe what he needed, but he knew it wasn't wise. To lose himself entirely into the dangerously inebriating embrace of Marco's would be too much now. He needed to remember his own motivation; there were too many things that needed to be done now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Oct. 24th


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I have a friend updating my chapters for me since my hands are getting bad again and the internet is wonky. If I do not get to all of your comments I do apologize. Please be patient with me, I really appreciate it guys.
> 
> ~Thanks, Lots of Love,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠
> 
> Me lo prometti - Do you promise

When he arrived home he stripped out of his clothes and immediately went to lie in bed. Throughout the night it seemed that he was seeking out a warmth that wasn't near. Marco's heat wasn't to be found, his arms wrapped so safely and securely around him weren't to be his tonight. It seemed odd how after just one night his body was already craving him, feening for him. Never the matter, as soon as he woke up he curled in on himself and cocooned himself into the blankets and let them warm him. Come morning he realized he hadn't slept so well.

Unfortunately for him that same listless pattern would continue. His only solace was knowing that at least Marco had found time to clear for a 45 minute lunch break with him. Sure, it wasn't a lot of time but they were two busy adults leading their own lives....at least that's what Jean kept telling himself. By the time Thursday had rolled around he was finding himself at his wits end. The studio had drained him, classes sent his mind reeling with a new slew of things that needed to be done, and taking Eren's shifts had almost wiped him. On top of all his usual problems he was finding it hard to get any decent amount of sleep. He missed Marco...as fucking much as he didn't wanna sound pathetic these small lunch dates and not being able to sleep with him was driving him mad.

Due to his lack of sleep the previous night, and throughout the week, he was rather irritable the entire day. Marco had been unable to mesh their schedules for lunch so he simply trudged through the day with a sour attitude. Even during his routines he seemed to be agitated at every misstep he took and even managed to be so unfocused that he lost his grip on the pole and slid down wrong managing to tear away one of the feet of his dermal anchor on his right thigh. He cursed so loudly his entire classroom paused and looked to him with evident concern. Once the blood began to drip down his thigh people clamored to him.

"Guys, I'm alright, I just need to clean up the blood." Jean limped over to his duffle bag and removed a towel as he placed it at his thigh.

It was a few moments afterwards that he heard a familiar voice through his students "Well, well. I come to bring you dinner and it seems like you hurt yourself."

His eyes went wide as Marco was standing in his sweater, polo, and khakis holding up a bag from a local restaurant "I-I...uh, Marco...what are you--"

"What am I doing here? I couldn't bring _lunch_ so I brought _dinner_. I didn't know you'd still be teaching a class at 7 but when I swung by the apartment you weren't there so...." Marco stepped up to the front of the room and bent to his knees by Jean.

"So you stalked me down to the studio? Good sleuthing _detective._ " He looked up to him and smirked as he tried to bring the subject away from his injury.

Placing the food down beside them Marco grabbed his wrist and tugged it away from his leg "Lemme see it. "

He tried to jerk back from his touch but was a bit too slow for Marco's reflexes "Dammit Marco! I'll be fine!"

"You don't look fine, bleeding isn't fine, you're hurt now shut the fuck up and let me see it. Now." When Jean covered the wound with his other hand Marco met his eyes two golden flecked irises meeting one umber and one fake umber.

Everyone watched cautiously as Jean lifted his hand and knitted his brows "See? It's nothing. Just half ripped out the dermal is all."

 _"Oh that's all,"_ he repeated in a mocking tone "look we need to get a solution on this and you need to go see your piercer."

"After cla--"

"I think he's right. There's only 15 minutes left of class anyway plus you seemed super distracted today." A young woman stepped from the group as others nodded in agreement.

Marco looked down to him victoriously before moving to cup his cheek "Look, baby, your students don't mind. You need to have that looked at and taken care of, you need to eat, then you need a good night's rest so I'll stay over."

Jean snorted "With you over I don't think a good night's _rest_ is what I'll be getting Marco."

From the back of the classroom he heard a girl speak "So....I guess he's _off_ the market now."

"Yeah, sure, give the idiot's ego another inflation." Jean groaned and a chorus of laughter broke out.

"He's mine, it's true, consider yourselves lucky because he's actually an asshole. You wouldn't want him, promise." Marco made a few verbal jabs at him then proceed to assist him to his feet. Jean finally agreed to give the class the dismissal that Marco was so adamant that he give and once he was up on his feet he was helped towards the door. Before he could think of it Marco had already lifted his duffle bag and slung it casually over his shoulder. Just what exactly was this man? Pushing the thought from his mind Jean reluctantly agreed to let Marco take him to his piercer, Xavier, who worked in a place on the other side of West LA.

It took them a little longer than Jean would have liked due to nightly traffic but after half an hour they reached the small shop. Never hard to miss with it's vibrant neon signs of bright purple and yellow essentially shouting "Steel Horse Tattoo & Piercings." Marco raised an eyebrow towards him, most likely judging him for the choice of parlor, then he simply shrugged it off and pulled into a parking space in front of the shop. When the two hobbled into the shop the assailing sound of music hit them before a receptionist behind a series of glass counters rushed to Jean.

"Hey, girl," Jean grinned "ya mind going to grab Xavier for me? I might have a tricky job for him."

The woman's rounded face and soft features were etched with horror and shock as she looked to Jean's thigh "Oh my god Jean what in the hell did you do?!"

"Charlie I'm alright--"

Before he could protest about his status Marco chimed in "His thigh dermal almost go ripped out he needs a new anchor." The moment the redhead turned to head to the back room she almost ran into the chest of man coming around the bend. Xavier was maybe an inch or two taller than Jean with dark skin and covered in tattoos from the neck down. His light jade eyes met Jeans and he shook his head while he examined the still slightly bleeding wound at his thigh.

Xavier walked out from the counters and over to Jean where he flicked him between the eyes "You fucking idiot. Come on back and tell me how you did it."

Jean winced a bit at being scolded by his old mentor "I wasn't paying attention in class and my grip slipped so I ended up sliding down wrong and my thigh was on the side of the pole so when I slid down it ripped part of it up."

Everyone entered the small room and Marco helped Jean to the seat while he himself went to stand in the corner of the room. Xavier was fiddling with things inside of small plastic drawers while Jean was yawning and worried more about what tonight was going to bring him. The moment Marco watched a series of dermals be tossed out onto the counter he cringed a bit. Sure, he dealt with much worse but he knew this was going to hurt Jean which brought a sense of queasiness to his stomach.

"So, Jean, I'm gonna have to wiggle this around a bit and change out the tops right?" Xavier grabbed a tiny pair of what looked, to Marco, to be a kind of forceps or clamps.

When Jean nodded Xavier sat down in an office chair and wheeled over to Jean where he secured the forceps around the top of the anchor so he could remove the jeweled top. Jean wasn't flinching in the slightest as the top was removed the anchor was investigated. His jaw was a bit clenched but not as much as Marco would have figured. It was interesting to him watch how Jean dealt with real pain, pain that wasn't given for pleasure, it was certain he had a high tolerance. Stepping closer Marco wished to get a cleared view of the happenings occuring.

Turning his head over his shoulder Xavier looked to Marco as he inched closer "Can I help you?"

"Not particularly. Only interested in the process at hand honestly." Marco replied bluntly as he moved against the wall but craned his head to examine.

In the moment Xavier arched a brow towards Jean he waved a hand "He's fine. He just wants to make sure that I'm not going to scream in agony or anything. You don't have to worry about my pain tolerance. It's not like I'm getting my _dick_ pierced, _Marco."_

Clearing his throat at the obvious jab Marco crossed his arms and huffed "Didn't hear you complaining last night _sweetheart._ Besides, I'm allowed to be worried about you when someone I don't know is digging around in your fleshy bits."

Jean's face contorted with disgust before a furious blush tinted his cheeks "M-Marco! Inappropriate!"

"Oh _please,_ this guy _knew_ you were fucking me the second I walked through the door." Marco gave a characteristic grin and shrugged off Jean's flustered appearance.

Xavier just smirked "He's right though, Jean. I know your type and this guy practically _screams_ it. I just wasn't gonna pry, you know me better than that."

"God....Xavier please don't encourage him. Ouch. Be careful will ya?" Jean squirmed a moment as the direction of the conversation was brought back to the actions at hand. While he'd been speaking Xavier had found it necessary to change the top of the dermal. As Marco watched he seemed to have picked up on th reasoning behind the switch. A longer dermal was attached to the anchor to allow room for more swelling since it had appeared Jean's dermal hadn't completely come through the skin. If his skin could heal properly then he wouldn't have to take it out and wait to get another.

For the remainder of their time in the small room Marco made his presence lesser known. Xavier explained why he had done what he did and Jean casually nodded, most likely already knowing. While the two finished up their chat Marco decided to walk out of the room and peruse the art displayed among the walls inside the lobby area. Marco having left him alone Jean just sat back and allowed Xavier to clean and finish up the process. He began to wonder just why Marco decided to show up with lunch. It was clear from earlier that he hadn't had any time to clear for him, so how then was he able to bring him lunch and take him off to the parlor?

"Jean???" Xavier waved a hand in front of his face "Did you hear me, Jean?"

Jean jerked his head back and blinked slowly "Ah, uh, no I didn't. I'm sorry. What is it?"

"Did you need anything else? I see you're working on that leg piece still."

"Oh, yeah, I haven't gotten around to finishing it because I've not been having much free time these days. I think that'll be all for this visit. I might be looking into hip piercings next time though."

"Because of course. There ain't much more of you I can pierce. Just, uh, be careful, I heard about your dad. You never know, Jean, that freak could be coming after you next."

A silly grin widened his lips "I don't think he'll come after me," he snickered to himself "I _know_ he will if I have something to say about it."

Xavier knit his brows "You can never be too careful Jean. Look after yourself, okay?"

"Promise. Now, help me down so I can go get my stupid idiot of a boyfriend." Just uttering the words himself made him grin as he slid off the table some assistance. Managing to hobble out of the piercing room and into the lobby of the parlor he found Marco flipping through the poster style art hangings. He was languidly flipping through each one staring at the various examples of work for a bit longer than Jean would have expected. Perhaps he was actually examining them for flaws or maybe he was just admiring them. He wasn't exactly sure.

Marco chuckled and without turning spoke to him "All done Jean? Should we head back?"

"Every time," Jean grumbled about being heard "I guess we should unless there's something that you want to get. Xavier is a good artist."

"So are _you_ Jean. That spot is still yours if you want it you know." At Xavier's words Jean turned bright red.

"Oh? Jean I thought you said you never took that apprenticeship..." Marco drawled.

"Are you kidding?! He took it and stayed here working himself half to death, even got certified, had an open spot for him and everything." Xavier huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest, obviously still not enthused he'd refused the offer.

Jean groaned "Look, it wasn't that I didn't _want_ to take it. I told you I wanted my degree first X. Maybe after graduation I'll think about it."

"Uh huh, sure. You know ya always got a spot here if you want it." He walked behind the counter and tossed him a small spray bottled.

Catching it for him, Marco caught it with his left hand "What's this?"

Leaning over Jean rolled his eyes "It's a solution to help the skin heal. Walking will stress it enough so I have to be careful everywhere else."

"Alright," Marco assisted him over to the counter "what's the charge?"

"$70 even." The redhead from earlier rang him up but it was Marco who paid for him earning him a disgruntled groan from Jean. Just why in the hell had he paid for him? It wasn't like he was incapable, especially not with what he'd just inherited. For then he accepted it and waited until Marco finished the transaction paying in cash. They bid Xavier and Charlie goodbye as they exited and Marco helped Jean into the car. Jean was holding in his outburst until Marco was securely in the drivers seat and placing the key into the ignition.

The moment Marco reached over for his thigh Jean smacked the back of his hand "Just what the hell was that?"

Startled, Marco looked at him bewildered "Uh, I, uh, what?"

"You know there was no reason for you to pay for that." Jean replied curtly.

Removing his foot from the break Marco turned to him in the car with the vehicle still in park "What the hell, Jean? I'm not allowed to pay for things? Does it emasculate you?"

"No, I'm just....I'm fully capable of doing it myself." He huffed refusing to look over.

Marco reached over and placed a hand at his face "You just inherited what? A couple hundred thousand dollars, a car, and an estate? Don't let something like money go to your head. I paid for it because I wanted to and I am able. Why do you have a problem?"

"Because, I can do it myself especially when I got myself into the situation that arose in the first place. From now on, I dunno, just don't do it?" Jean pleaded with him softly.

No match for the low whine he sighed and turned back to driving "You're a mess. Now the food has gotten cold."

"We can heat it up at the apartment." Jean casually tossed back.

"I suppose so. When we get you home you need to eat, shower, and sleep. I'll stay as long as I can." Taking it as his queue he reached his hand over and placed it atop Jean's leg. It was a moment before he was met with the comfort of wrapping his fingers through Jean's. The decently long drive back to the apartment Jean spent thinking of just how much he wanted to sleep...and sleep next to Marco. He did say though that he'd stay as long as he could and did that mean he wasn't planning on staying over? Why didn't he want to stay? Was something the matter...oh well, he'd just pry and try to get his way. As far as he could remember Marco was an easy man to crack.

They pulled into the parking lot of the complex while Jean was too busy lost in thought to recognize it. Losing Marco's warmth was the only thing to make him snap his head up to realize where they were. Marco snickered to himself as he grabbed Jean's bag from the trunk of the car. He assisted him by simply staying to his side should he need to lean into him. Jean was thankful he didn't really need much of Marco's help to steady himself but he might have overplayed his injury a bit just so he could.

Once inside the apartment Marco led Jean back to his bedroom so he could place the duffle bag at the foot of the bed. Without so much as a word he went into the kitchen to reheat their food while Jean decided to go ahead and get into the shower. It shouldn't be a problem right? Last he checked this was his apartment and if he just so happened to want to walk out of his own shower in the nude no one could stop him. Marco didn't need to be told he was in the shower once the sound of the water pelting the wall was heard in the kitchen. After all there was no need to announce it either right?

He took his time in the shower enjoying the rush of water on his aching muscles. The feeling wasn't exactly pleasant for his thigh, in fact it smarted quite a bit due to the pressure, but it had brought the swelling down a bit which he was thankful for. After recognizing he'd spent a while in the shower he decided there should be much more fun to be had here.

Calling out to the front room he raised his voice as he shut off the water "Hey, Marcooo???"

Hearing from the other room a low "What's up?"

"Could you bring me a towel please baby?!" He shouted with a playful inflection. There was a momentary pause as he heard nothing back from Marco. Had he heard him correctly, or even at all? Before he could call out to him again he heard the sound of extremely light treading footsteps. Deciding it would be more fun to leave the bathroom door open, he pushed it open and let the steam exit the room. He pretended not to hear Marco trying to sneak in behind him as he was running his fingers through his hair with his back turned towards the door.

He felt a hand slide down his spine, following the curve of his body tightly "Brought your towel."

Marco tossed it casually onto the counter of the illuminated vanity as Jean leaned back into his touch "Mmm, thank you so how about that food you mentioned earlier? I'm starving."

Slinging his arms tightly around Jean he chuckled "I don't know, Jean. You're looking pretty damn _tasty_ right about now."

"No taking a bite out of me _yet_. Stay the night and we'll see." He said with a playful wink knowing that his plan was working.

"You just want me to stay and cuddle you," he leaned down to whisper against his throat "don't you? So you'll be so worn out you'll get the perfect night's rest as you lay against me trying to regain your breath?"

His skin shivered at the low, gravelly tone of his voice as his Italian accent shined through "I, uh, wouldn't mind it. First though I need to dry off and throw on a pair of sweats. We can go eat then and then you can take me to bed."

Marco's fingers around his hips tightened as he whispered against his ear " _'Me lo prometti?_

"With _every_ molecule in my body." Jean responded with a sensual lilt as he broke free of his grasp to grab his towel and dry himself off. Marco was giving him that predatory gaze and he could feel it practically searing holes through his skin. Jean wrapped the towel around his hips loosely as he stepped over to his dresser where he removed a pair of sweats and slid them on. Without missing a beat Marco was quickly by his side and escorting him into the kitchen of the small apartment so he could serve him dinner and the two could watch something on the sofa.

Of course when Marco gave him a bewildered expression it didn't strike a familiar nerve until Jean realized, Marco doesn't eat in front of the television on the couch. That was purely an American thing. He didn't know much about Marco or his life after everything. For all he knew he didn't even eat at home or cook for himself. Contracts were probably all over the world, how often was he at home anyway? Did anything he own cookware or eat there?

He decided to sit and eat with Marco but once they were finished he drug him over to the sofa. Sure he might not exactly want to delay things but snuggling next to him before sex was nice. Marco’s fingers were raking pleasantly through his hair and he found it hard to believe that this man was a murderer. He'd seen it himself and yet here he was.

He lay content against his chest with an arm over his waist until Marco stirred him “You getting tired, Jean? Its almost 2 am.”

Having to cover his mouth as he yawned Jean shrugged “I could sleep but I promised.”

Leaning to press into his forehead Marco laughed softly “Don't be silly Jean. Your sleep is _far_ more important to me than my sexual desire. I can have you in the morning when you have some energy. I'd rather have you feisty.”

Jean rolled his eyes “Oh of course, well come on and let me sleep then. I want you _with_ me.”

As Jean rolled off the couch after unwrapping himself from him Marco followed him to the bedroom “Okay.” Jean seized his wrist and drug him along as Marco's languid pace was a bit too slow for his liking. He didn't seem to have a problem being tugged along so he happily continued until they reached to foot of the bed. Jean stopped in front of him to shimmy out of his pants tantalizingly slow, trying to rouse him.

Marco was too busy removing his shoes to pay attention to the way Jean was swaying hips though it was a bit difficult to restrain starting at the display. Fingers becoming antsy to reach out and grab Jean's hips to pull him into his lap, he tried to busy them. He tried to ignore Jean and pull his sweater over his head followed by unbuttoning his shirt but it was clear his desire may have been stronger than he previously thought. Curling his fingers of the rise of Jean's hips he drug his naked body to sit on his lap as his eyes roamed over every inch of Jean's body.

“You're doing this on purpose.” He grumbled as he looked up at him.

Jean raked his fingers through Marco's hair before tugging gently _“Perhaps._ I'm tired but not _too_ tired to make good on my promise. Won't you give me what I want?”

Dangerous smile curling his lips he grinned “What do you want?”

Jean whispered, breath hot and heavy at his throat as he leaned down “Your _cock_ inside me.”

Marco's eyes widened at the filth exiting Jean's mouth before he rolled him over and shoved him into the mattress growling “That's potent. What a _filthy_ mouth you have Jean.”

Raising a knee to the inseam of Marco's slacks he purred “What's the matter Marco?? You know this mouth does _other_ filthy things.”

Gritting his teeth at the sudden friction to his tightening pants he gave a moment before responding between neck kisses “Mmm don't go teasing me baby," he pressed another kiss down his neck, scraping his teeth over his skin "you might get my hopes up of coming in that pretty mouth.”

Jean's facial features appeared shocked before he schooled them and his lips widened to a smirk “Are you saying you want me to suck you off before you fuck me?”

Nipping his ear sharply as he gave a roll of hips grinding against Jean's Marco chuckled deeply “I couldn't say no to the offer of you on your knees in front of me swallowing me to the hilt.”

Jean gasped as a light moaned tumbled over his lips “God! If thats what you want Marco why don't I get started huh?”As he trailed a hand down to the button of his slacks a phone rang in the room. Jean didn't recognize it as his or Marco’s but suddenly he scrambling off the bed with his eyes wider than an owls. Jean huffed dejectedly as Marco frantically dug in his pocket for the phone. As he answered it the call Jean listened intently.

Marco's voice was obviously irritated and deeply accented as he picked up “What?! I'm in the middle of something--”

Jean reached out to him ghosting his fingers over his chest _“Marrccooo,”_ he drawled whining “come back to bed. Put down the phone and come back to me.”

At Jean's plead Marco replied softly “Babe, I promise, uh huh,” his voice sharply whipped back to pointed as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line “Make it quick, Levi!”

Jean froze at the name, it meant something was wrong so he tried to listen closer hearing the voice on the other end “This is an emergency, I don't care what or _who_ you're doing. Pull up the GPS tracker for Eren.”

A bit puzzled Marco hesitated “Wait, what? Why?”

The voice practically screeched the demand “Just do as I goddamn say, Marco!”

Jean watched as Marco was searching for, possibly, his other phone “Marco whats going on?”

“Fine, fine.” At the concern in his voice he turned to Jean “Jean I'll be just a minute, hang on,” he was staring down at his phone as he replied “okay. I'm staring at it right now.”

“Where is he?”

“A few blocks away. Why the hell did you interrupt me for this?!”

“Stay on the line Marco and tell me when I'm close.”

“You're getting closer, just another block, turn--”

“Right. Goddamn…. the garden!”

“You're basically on top of him, Levi, do you see him?”

The line fell deathly silent for a few moments causing panic to set it and dread to know both their stomachs before the voice was heard again this time cold, flat, authoritative “Get on the next plane out. That's a goddamn _order_ for _everyone._ I need to call in Mike and Erwin, bring your boy too he might be useful.”

Marco tried to find his words and thoughts “Wait a minute, Levi what's--”

_“Eren’s gone.”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Neko has finished with writing Sweet As Cinnamon they are jumping between this story and their newest JeanMarco to be revealed at the beginning of the year. They pass on their hopes for an enjoyable chapter as it will surpass the events of Saving the Spade in the next few chapters. Neko will get to comments, or try to, on the weekends. Enjoy.
> 
> ***T.C.***

"Eren’s gone" were the only words he heard before the line fell silent with a click. Jean had heard it all; the panic in Ace’s voice, the heaving of his breath as he ran and turned down roads, but mostly the anger and determination he heard in his voice as he ordered them. The men they were after found Eren. This was **bad**.

Marco shifted to him and with a business face plastered on ordered him “Get dressed. Wear a suit and pack for a few days. We're off to Paris. I need to make a few calls." Jean nodded and rolled off the bed to do as instructed. Sure, he was left high and dry, and he was incredibly horny, but the news of his friend being kidnapped was enough to rapidly switch gears. Throwing on a suit wasn’t a problem but hadn’t an idea how they were supposed to get plane tickets to Paris so late at night for the immediate need.

When Marco walked back into the room he moved to assist Jean with packing and matching his colors “I think you look good in greens.” He spoke so casually as he grabbed a shirt from its hanger inside the closet before tying a black tie around his neck for him.

Jean sighed and rubbed his temples “Thanks. I guess we need to find plane tickets.”

“No need. It’s been taken care of. Now, we have to meet a few people at the airport. I….” Marco took a moment to let the words form in his throat before speaking “I don’t want to stress you or worry you but Jean, this is going to get ugly. You **will** be in danger.”

Reaching a hand out to his cheek and thumbing over it gently he smiled “I’m not worried. I have you to protect me.”

Marco’s eyes widened before he dropped his arm to waist to kiss him feverishly “I will do _everything_ in my power to make sure you return home without a scratch. Now, let’s go save your idiot friend.” Jean had to wait a moment before clearing his mind and nodding. Within moments Jean was dressed to the nines and finished packing his bags with Marco’s help. They were leaving the second they were finished and before he knew it they were driving off to Marco’s apartment.

This was going to be new. He’d never seen his apartment so it’d be interesting to see how he lived and how his tastes were. At least he thought he’d be seeing the inside of his apartment. Once they arrived a bit more than an hour later he instructed Jean to wait in the car. His wait hadn’t been very long as Marco strolled back out in a suit with a suitcase rolling casually behind him. Quickly, he popped the trunk, tossed in the bags, and headed out to the airport.

When they arrived at the airport a half hour later Jean was met by three faces he’d seen only briefly and one he knew all too well. Dressed in a stunning halter dress with a thigh high slit and a pair of slingback pumps, Mikasa was situating her scarf. He didn’t need HueVue to tell it was red. It was the scarf Eren had given her a long time ago. In the moonlight he could clearly see her sharp features were etched in pure rage, but mostly, concern and doubt were prevalent.

Approaching her cautiously he placed a hand atop her shoulder “We’ll get him back Mikasa.”

She nodded and grinned deviously “Of course we will. We don’t leave our own behind enemy lines. Welcome to the gang, Jean.”

“Thanks. Never would have thought this was your job.” He said with a reciprocating grin.

“Flight attendant _surely_ wasn’t on the list either.” She replied as she looked to the short girl to her right.

Digging around in her bag she removed tickets for each of them “Jean, right? Here’s your ticket. Sorry we didn’t get well acquainted last time. I’m Krista and this is my girlfriend Ymir. We’re the Hearts of the organization. I also work with Mikasa for cover as a flight attendant. Pay off the right people and it’s a trip wherever you need.”

Jean gave a polite nod and looked to her girlfriend, as Krista spoke of her, nodding in respect to her as well “I see, well, it seems you are all a well oiled killing machine. I’m really drained so I think it’s time we all get on the plane.”

Ymir agreed with him rather quickly “True. We can chit-chat with Marco’s toy on the plane, Angel.”

Marco shot her an icy glare “Watch how you speak of him, Ymir. Here, as the club, we are equals but not everywhere _else_. Jean is my boyfriend not simply someone to toy with until he breaks.” As Marco slid his right over his waist Jean leaned into him. It was nice to hear him speak of him like that though the tone he’d used with Ymir was strange. Marco's voice was almost demanding, authoritative even, as he spoke to her. She simply blew him off and continued to the terminal.

He was genuinely surprised that they had the kinda pull that they did in order to secure what they had so fast. The plane's cabins were completely empty except for them. The pilot came out to address Marco for a moment and he simply slid away from Jean for a moment. The short man simply gave a waist low bow, said something in a whisper, and scampered off to the cockpit. It was too early in the morning to care and wonder about those things. He just wanted to sleep and he’d have plenty of time on the half a day ride.

It was difficult that he couldn’t get to Marco but Jean leaned his seat back alongside him. He'd rolled to his side to face him and stroked Jean's hair softly until he fell asleep. Marco watched him for a bit and was painfully aware that the two were being watched by the others. He simply huffed and continued his actions, tracing parts of Jean’s face so lightly he didn’t even stir, watching him mumble in his sleep, and finally lacing his fingers together with Jean’s as he soon fell asleep himself.

Awaking to the quiet sounds filling the cabin, Jean rubbed at his eyes, opened them, and was met with the sight of Marco still subtly snoring. He couldn’t help but think he was cute like that; fingers still wrapped in his own, softened expression, pulling harder as he tried to leave. Looking around he noticed that Mikasa was sitting, arms crossed, head leaned against the window asleep. She was probably exhausted. Ymir and Krista were both awake, however, chatting rather softly among themselves.

Slipping away from his grasp, Jean slid away from Marco in order to locate the lavatory and wash up a little. On the way out he decided to stop by Ymir and Krista’s seating to speak with them. He didn’t know them and they seemed to be rather interesting, plus, he wanted to know Marco’s people, his friends, the family he’d lay down his life for.

“Good morning,” he began as he stopped in front of their row “mind if I have a seat? Sleeping Beauty isn’t up yet.”

Krista gestured to the seat at her left “By all means, sit.”

He removed his phone from his pocket and thanked them before shaking the phone a bit “Thank you. Now, I have a strange request, would you mind if I get a photo of you two? You can watch me delete it, I swear and  you guys probably know if you did research on me too, but I’m colorblind.”

Ymir shrugged “I didn’t particularly care who was in Freckles’ dossier but knock yourself out 50 shades.”

Jean groaned at the new nickname but snapped the photo and examined it “So, Krista you’re a blonde and Ymir you’re a brunette. Interesting, Freckles...you called him that before the other night. You know you have them too right?”

Krista giggled “She does but she loves to tease Marco. They’ve known each other for a long while. Why don’t you tell us about you? The only things we know are what we found out about you through the mission plan Marco talked about. He really must be smitten with you, you know?”

Feeling his face flush, Jean averted his gaze from the blonde’s sparkling azure eyes “Oh uh, well there isn’t much to tell. I work with Eren but went to high school with him. I’m a choreographer at a dance studio and I have a certification to be a tattoo artist in the state of California. That’s all there is really about me, but what do you mean, with Marco?”

“He watched you sleep most of the night before he fell asleep. There was a moment he was smiling so hard because you mumbled something, he touched you, and you just relaxed. It was like subconsciously you knew it was him. Marco’s always been a good guy with a bit of playful sass but he’s also been very guarded. Seeing him with you was like seeing someone else. He’s softening up again.” She grinned at him as Ymir just chuckled.

“Marco’s someone that’s good at putting on a smile and fooling others. He will do almost anything for anyone, give you the shirt off his back, but when it comes to himself he’d rather _suffer_ than express himself too much. Growing up he was taught that was _weak_. Emotion gets you killed and looked down on so that sassy exterior was developed. Don’t get me wrong he’s still a sass master but it’s also a coping mechanism. He only showed genuine emotion for his mother.” Ymir cut in with a bit of clarity.

Jean soaked in the information, trying to process it all before replying “I see, so you’re basically telling me that my murdering, mother's boy, puppy dog of a boyfriend is one _giant_ ball of sass and unresolved emotional issues that he won’t share with anyone?”

“Essentially, though I don’t think that my emotional repression is any of _your_ business, Ymir. It doesn’t take a rocket scientists to figure out that a _‘murdering puppy dog’_ like me would have unresolved issues.” Marco stared down at Ymir as he covered his mouth during a yawn.

They all stared up in surprise, mostly Jean, as Marco had finally gotten the drop on him, but it was Krista that spoke “Oh come now, Marco, you can’t blame us for informing him. He has a right to know.”

“It should be my place to do so, Krista, though I appreciate the concern for him. When I feel ready I’ll inform him of everything, until now, let us enjoy our honeymooning period of this relationship,” outstretching a hand he offered it to Jean “what do say to breakfast?”

Accepting the hand he bid the ladies farewell “Sounds great. Thanks Krista, you too Ymir. It was nice talking with you.”

They waved back as the two of them returned to their seats several rows back in the first class cabin "So, talking about me to the ladies. Find out anything else about me?"

Upon sitting Jean got a bit flustered due to Marco's intense stare "I uh, I wasn't fishing for information about you. I wanted to know about them but she mentioned last night it was like seeing another part of you when you were with me. I was curious."

"Curiosity can get you killed Jean. I suppose its's normal though for them to be like this though. Come on, let's call on our single stewardess and chef." Marco smiled a soft smile as he examined the menu, pulling it from the seat in front of him. Deciding to follow a similar route Jean removed the menu from the back of the seat in front of him and looked over it carefully. Before too long both he and Marco had eaten and were casually relaxing, fingers intertwined, and eyes closed enjoying the ride. Internally Jean was trying to calm the fear and dread in his stomach.

He was entering a world he'd never known of and it was likely he could be killed. But he was with Marco, and this was his life, so by extension it meant this was his life to live now too right? Jean might have been terrified but he had a power unlike any other to be calm and precise when the moment called for it, to be calculating and methodical, to be cunning and determined, to be strong and fierce. Right now, he knew he could stand tall but it didn't make him any less aware or afraid of what lied lurking in the shadows for both he, and Marco.

Krista and Ymir seemed to have slept at the tail end of the trip and had only awoken by the time the wheels of the plane landed on the tarmac. Macro inhaled deeply and he moved to stand as the plane came to a safe stop. Ymir was gathering her things and Krista and Mikasa were more than ready to be off another plane. Jean apprehensively followed Marco off the plane and clung to his side as they wove their way through the throng of people inside the airport. Thankfully he could understand a miniscule amount of French to get around decently and understand the way they were going. Marco kept a strong hold of him as they trudged their luggage but to Jean it seemed Marco wasn't himself....or maybe he was. An air of importance was swirling it's way around Marco in thick whisps along with a form of confidence and intimidation.

Jean hadn't been busy watching where Marco was leading him when they were approached by two men. One was taller than Marco standing about 6'5 and the other was taller than himself yet shorter than Marco by perhaps two inches. Marco met their eyes and simply gave a curt nod of his head and began to follow the two out of the airport. If they had known each other it wasn't very clear. The two men led the way around various streets and winding roads away from the airport before they came to a small two story house that was neatly situated in a southern stretch of Paris. While being rather quaint it was certainly a nice home so he removed his phone to snap a photo and get a rather more in depth description.

Orchid was not the color he expected to show as he snapped a photo of the home's exterior. A purple home with white shutters and a small white porch that was nestled among other homes didn't exactly seem like where they should be meeting Ace....well, Levi, not like he'd call him that to his face. He was pretty sure if he called Ace Levi he might get another blade hurled at his face. Nonetheless he stood back and allowed Marco to take the lead and knock on the door. They waited a few moments before he tried again and a young woman a bit taller than Krista opened the door.

She looked momentarily dumbfounded as she invited the all in and turned her head quickly over her shoulder " Uh, come on in. Levi, your friends are here."

Levi was sitting in the floor looking up at them when they walked in before his gaze flickered to the woman's "Good. Is, you can stay if you'd like."

Marco's attention feel to the woman Levi had addressed as Is "You must be the person I've never heard a thing about."

Turning she shot Levi a deathly glare " _Really,_ Levi?"

"Sorry, I don't talk about my personal life to my associates," he shrugged. Rising from the floor he gestured towards Is "Everyone, this is my little sister, Isabel Magnolia, this is her home be respectful. I am in the mood to slaughter someone so I suggest doing as I ask."

Mikasa stepped up to him, anger prevalent but worry more so "What happened to Eren?! You were supposed to be watching him! How could you let this happen?! This is all **your** fault!"

Glancing away, Levi nodded "I know it is. I'm sorry, Mikasa, but we'll get him back. I already have a plan."

Isabel craned her head "Uh, I'm sorry, you seem really protective over him but Levi will do everything he can."

"He better hope so. My brother is my only family and if he dies _you'll_ know my pain." Her fierce gaze shot towards Isabel but she knew it was a shield for her pain so she just shrugged it off and headed into the kitchen while Jean just sucked in his breath.

Once everyone was seated in the living room Levi began to speak once again "Okay, this is how this is going to happen," pausing he glanced around the room "....wait, where are Bertholdt and Reiner?"

Marco cut in quickly "They had a contract in Beijing or somewhere. Beats me. I couldn't get in contact with them."

"That's going to be a problem, there aren't many of us and we're practically going to have a storm a goddamn _castle."_

Pulling his phone from his breast pocket Marco began typing and looked to Levi "If what you say is true, I can call in the family."

Jean elbowed him grabbing his attention "I'm sorry? What family?"

Levi nodded ignoring that Jean had tried to garner his attention "You think they'll be willing? We need all the muscle we can get not to mention weapons."

"I'm the goddamn head of the family even if Nero is in charge in my absence. They **will** do as I ask. I can send the call right now. I owe Eren as much. I will never admit that in his presence but whatever it takes, just say the word."

**"Do it."**

"Alright. I'll go make the call."

"Marco what the hell are you talking about?!" Jean was staring blankly, completely at a loss of what was going on and this family that Marco spoke of.

Turning his attention to Jean, Levi smiled "Your boyfriend's the head of the Italian mob kid, just ask Ymir who is his cousin, but you can do that later. I think I have a use for you."

Flabbergasted by the lead of the conversation Jean placed his fingers to the bridge of his nose before his eyes widened in shock "What?! Like, _the mob_ , mob?! Oh... the fuck?! So he kills people and he's a mob boss, wonderful, _absolutely wonderful_. What could you possibly need me for?"

"I need you to call up the head of the organization, my uncle, and arrange a meeting. Kenny Ackerman, the president and C.E.O. of Ackerman Control Risks, a private security firm which you're probably familiar with. He's going to know your last name and he's also going to know that this is a trap if he hasn't dulled in his old age. I want you to call to arrange a contract for his services, maybe your mother needs protection as do you. You might also want to talk about his other services, getting rid of a certain pest by the name of the King of Spades who happened to murder your dear father. He will know then what this is and he'll let you into that building because you could get to Marco who could get to me. Once you enter, Christa, the lovely blonde beside Ymir, will come in behind you and distract the receptionist. While she's doing that, Mike is going to cut the power to the building. Once the building goes dark Marco is going to sneak in and you're going to get out of there. Once those lights go off the battle begins. Erwin, you're going to lead the team downstairs to Eren and Hanji, I'm going after Kenny, Mikasa your target is to get Eren and Hanji out of there safely. I'll join you all when I can."

Mikasa looked to Levi with a blank stare, her emotions hidden behind her stoicism yet obviously edged in her words "So you're securing your personal vendetta while we go do the hard part?"

Levi snapped, almost snarling, as he practically leapt from his seat "Excuse you?! Watch your fucking tongue little girl. The only reason we're all hunted is because of me! This whole thing is happening because of me, so I'll be goddamned if I let someone else end the man that is responsible for every ounce of pain to ever befall me or any of you! ** _I_ ** will be the one to personally kill him and I do _**not**_ need your fucking permission to do so, understand me?! If I don't end this it will keep going, so it ends tomorrow. All of it."

Her face remained blank as she nodded "I understand."

Erwin spoke up from the back of the room "You think he can handle another day? For all we know that kid broke."

Jean and Mikasa collectively shook their heads, but it was Jean that defended Eren "No, he didn't. He'll be fine. He's handled worse for what we know. I'll help however I can, Mikasa, you ever tell Eren I did this and I will deny it to the day I die."

She rolled her eyes "I know. Now, if we have all this planned out and you have this plan why are we waiting?"

"Because right now they're in Frankfurt. It's a 6 hour drive from Frankfurt to Paris and they'll be moving them probably early tomorrow so we don't know what's going to happen after that. We just have to wait until they move them, it's actually easier for us that way. Erwin and I can already be in the building and help from the inside, we aren't even so much as allowed to look at anything else." Mike crossed his legs and leaned back against the sofa tossing his arm casually over the back of it as Levi took the reigns.

"He's right, and we need all the help we can get-- Marco, what's the damage?" Levi's attention hurled to Marco as he strolled back into the room and procured his seat beside Jean.

"Not much, I just have to go home after this to do some actual work for a bit. Nero is heading the group himself so we know we have at least one heavy hitter coming. It'll take them 12 hours to ge here. How long until we move?"

"Less than 24 hours and we'll be in. First things, first, Jean, we need you to make that call." Levi opened Eren's computer and pulled open a document with the information to be discussed as Jean nodded. He took his cellphone from his pocket and dialed the number. After waiting on the line for several minutes and speaking to a secretary he finally heard a gravelly voice on the other end of the line and began to speak according to the script that Levi had typed out on the screen.

 

"Ah, I never imagined I'd hear from Uther's son, Jean right?"

"Correct, and I never imagined my father had such connections." The moment he heard that voice, he knew he'd heard it before, it was too familiar.

His voice lulled as he spoke, insinuating something different as he continued "What is your reason for calling exactly? My secretary informed me you'd like to hire someone for........... personal security?"

"You _are_ a security firm so yes, however, I would like to make it clear I did find my fathers _documents_ and I would like to....request that we have a conversation about the man I witnessed in my fathers study."

"Hold on one moment....." he paused a moment and there was a momentary silence on the line before the sound of several clicks "good, now about the man, I do believe it was the King of Spades correct?"

"At least that was the card I got." Jean replied bluntly.

"Very good," Kenny Ackerman paused as he heard him flipping pages "we can schedule a meeting for tomorrow at 3 pm should that suffice. Gives you enough time to make it over."

Jean responded quickly yet retraining a bit for professionalism "Ah yes, of course. Thank you very much I'll see you then sir."

"My _pleasure._ Thank you for choosing us. I look forward to meeting you Mr. Kirschtein. Good day." With that much the call was over and Jean disconnected.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well wishes from Neko. In regards to updates, there has been an update on their tumblr should you be curious. You can find it
> 
> [Here](http://justapansexualfanficwriter.tumblr.com/post/153357578516/update-hold)
> 
> ***T.C.***

An exasperated sigh left Jean's lips as he leaned back against the sofa unknowing of what to do next. Marco moved to place a hand on his shoulder but the moment he felt the contact he shook it off and shot him a glare.

Levi simply nodded weakly "Thank you. You've definitely assured us our in. Now we've got a chance to save everyone. I suppose now you should be acquainted with Mike and Erwin who are the gentlemen you met at the airport." He gestured to them to respectively as he continued "These two are old friends from the military unit I was once in as well as my contacts inside the organization that my uncle created. The are close friends and two of the _biggest_ pains in the ass you'll ever meet but they'll watch your back."

"Nice to meet you both," Jean managed a soft smile before continuing "I don't know about that. One of the biggest? That title falls to asshole beside _me."_

"Baby, I--" Marco began softly with a hand at his knee.

Jean snapped, quickly retorting as he grabbed his tie and yanked him closer until their noses were almost touching "Do not _"baby"_ me Marco Bodt. You have some explaining to do so you had better get started." Turning to Levi's sister, Is, he raised a brow "Is there a place we can speak privately?"

Isabel stepped in and gestured towards the kitchen as everyone else was either too busy snickering or staring owlishly to respond "You can step out back. I'll make some tea for everyone."

As Jean rose to his feet he tugged Marco along behind him to walk through the kitchen and out the back door "Alright. Fucking spill. What the _hell_ does he mean Ymir is your cousin and you're head of the goddamn **mob?** Like the Italian mafia, in movies and T.V.?"

Marco scrunched his features as he nodded "Yes," he then paused and continued "and no. My father was the head of the Martello family. He was born from the head of the Sicilian mob family and the heiress to the Martello family. This merged the families and when he had merged another family with his wife therein lied the problem. I told you before his wife was barren and when he had his affair with my mother as his mistress she got pregnant with me. When my father found me he was dying. He wanted me to take over as head because I have the blood of 2 of the most powerful families running in my blood and, due to his marriage, me taking over would have been controlling the 3 most powerful families in all of Italy. It was determined should I take over and be groomed as heir I would not only run the four families closest to us but also the _entirety_ of Italy."

Not knowing how to react Jean simply said the first thing that came to mind "So Jon was concerned about me because he knew about your name and your history."

"At least my father's anyhow. I decided to be trained and groomed for the heir at 15 until I was 19. I pissed off a lot of people when I left for the White Rabbit. I left my cousin Nero in charge, who technically is only related to me by the thinnest of bloodlines. A family, the Berga's, rebelled against the choice and began acting out against the rules I had set Nero with. When Eren left the first time he was called to assist me and Ace--Levi, in a contract, on the head of that family. The family was snuffed out in return and I left after settling some debts," Marco explained a little farther but Jean was still, mostly, lost.

"I see, well, kinda," Jean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "I still don't really understand all this. Why didn't you take over? Why didn't you tell me?"

With a sigh he shrugged his shoulders "I didn't _want_ to. Why should I have to take on so much responsibility because of some man who cursed me? He never cared for me before he needed an ass for his throne. I wasn't cut out for it and I had my own path to take so I took it regardless. I didn't tell you because I thought you'd be more scared of me, it would change your perception of me, that because of that it would be too much."

Stepping forward Jean placed his hands on either sides on Marco's face "Look at me. I told you that I don't care what you do or who people want you to be. I like you for you. Your kindness, your smile, the way just being around soothes me, how you laugh and how you show me you care for me. Stop trying to pretend to think for me or put words in my mouth Marco."

"I'm sorry...It's not something I'm proud of. I don't want to be this person that every fucking criminal in the entirety of Italy looks to. With Nero acting as head of the family he doesn't have the responsibility of doing that. Without my bloodlines present he cannot preside over Sicily. Only I can take that power should I return. That tattoo you saw on my shoulder? The sickle blade is my own mark on the tattoo while the 'M' is for Martello my family name. In Italy chrysanthemums are flowers given to show respect at funerals so hence why the 'M' is over a bed of them. Cosa Nostra is Italian for "Our Thing" and relates purely to the Sicilian mafia and the words beneath it are my title as head of all families which is Capo di tutti i Capi. Now you know and I am hiding nothing else from you." His eyes were soft and it wasn't hard to tell that he really hated this part of his life. Obviously it wasn't easy for Marco to discuss it with him.

"And what of the other one?" Jean posed.

Marco tilted his head a bit before he remembered that Jean saw his second tattoo "Oh, that one is for my mother. It has her name at the center and "In exchange for my own soul" would be the closest translation. The passionflower is her favorite flower."

"That's beautiful, Marco. You must really love your mother," he leaned forward closing the small space between them kissing him gently "so why don't you tell me about the people that are on the way?"

Delighting in the warmth of their kiss Marco pushed for another before answering "Nero is coming along with some button---soliders more or less. Nero is the acting head and he might be overly critical of you at first. Don't mind it he just wishes the best for me is all. You will see them treat me differently as well as Ymir. She's not actually related to me by blood that I know of. One of my father's men, his consigliere, took her into his family as a child and we grew up together during our teen years."

"Hmm, I get it now. Okay, well we've been up for a while and I think we should rest well before we go of on this plan. Why don't we go to sleep?" Jean laid his head against Marco's chest as he drug him closer.

Patting his lapel pocket he shrugged "I don't have my cigarettes on me so I guess sleep can be next on the list come on let's go tell Isabel." Jean followed with the idea and allowed Marco to lead the way back into the kitchen. While Jean discussed a sleeping arrangement with Isabel Marco went to slink around the corner to check on Levi as he awaited Jean. Isabel led them upstairs to a spare room where they decided to take a small nap. It wouldn't be much longer until Marco's men were called in and so they both thanked Isabel for the room and stripped down to their boxers.

Crawling into bed alongside Marco and laying against his chest was probably the best way his night could have ended. It was then that his mind began to run. Marco was going to be in the center of a firefight; what if he never got this again? What if Marco didn't come back? There was no way that could happen right? Suddenly before he could rationalize his actions he buried his face into Marco's side as his chest stuttered in it's rhythmic rise and fall. Marco's arms were squeezing him tightly and he was awash with a warmth in his chest. Reciprocating his action Jean tossed an arm over his midsection and pulled himself tighter against him.

Whispering against his temple Marco gave him a reassuring squeeze "It's okay, Jean, I'm gonna be okay. **I promise."**

"How'd--"

"You're practically sobbing into my chest baby," he moved back to lift Jean's chin "look at me. I will be just fine but on the off chance that something _does_ happens to me, I want-- I **need** you to know that it's _okay._ All of us are here are fully aware of what it means to pull a gun or brandish a knife. There is no doubt in our minds that once a weapon is in our hands that someone is getting hurt and there is **always** a chance it's going to be us. No one can win all the time, we go in prepared to die, and to wield a weapon is to know and take responsibility for that. If there's a hell I've been going for a while but I fully intend to earn my passage."

His words were profound and the tears stinging at his eyes began to fall "Marco don't you **dare** tell me you are ready to die! You're **not** going to die goddamn it!!"

Jean was shaking his head at him practically screeching so he did the only thing he thought possible and kissed him "Listen to me. Jean you're amazing. You're gorgeous, kind, you make me feel something I've never felt before, and I can tell you that you're unlike anyone I've ever met. My feelings for you are great. I care for you, deeply, I do but I know my life choices. Do I think I'm gonna die? No, but I am _prepared_ every day for that possibility. It comes with the territory. A lot of people want me dead and they're going to want _you_ dead just to hurt me as well. It's not an easy life to live Jean."

Diving back to his chest he slung his arms around Marco " ** _Don't fucking talk like that!_** I want you to promise me that you're gonna be okay. Tell me it's gonna fine, Marco. Just tell me it's gonna be fine.... _please."_

Running his fingers through his hair as he finally choked out his sobs Marco comforted him to the best of his abilities "Shhh. It's gonna be okay, I'm gonna be fine, so are you, so is Eren, Hanji, Ymir, Christa, Mike, and Erwin. We're **all** gonna be make it just fine." Shortly afterwards of holding him during his breakdown Marco had realized that Jean had fallen asleep on him. It was more than he thought would happen but he was thankful for it. If Jean hadn't had that kind of reaction he'd wonder if he really did care about what happened or if being with him had already hardened his heart. Jean was everything he wasn't but hoped he could be at some point. He had no idea why Jean wanted to be with someone like him, he couldn't begin to fathom it, but if he wanted him the way Marco wanted him than he'd do anything if it meant he was protected.

Four hours later Jean awoke to Marco staring back at him holding him against his chest. The sun had already been up for a while and it was clear that it wouldn't be much longer before the plan was set into motion. With a smile he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Marco's lips gingerly. At some point in the night their legs had naturally tangled together and he was more than aware of the band of his boxers slipping down as he stretched up. It seemed he wasn't the only one either as Marco grinned and slid a lone index finger down his stomach.

Jean quirked an eyebrow as his finger slid from hip to hip before retreating. Marco kissed his forehead and climbed out of bed moving to his suitcase where he began to remove things Jean wouldn't have ever seen coming. It was like he was preparing for an all out war.....but then again maybe that's **exactly** what this was. The gleam of metal caught his eyes as a curved blade about as long as Marco's forearm was placed out, as were 4 throwing knives, 2 daggers, three hidden release sheaths, two pistols, and an extra magazine for each. Marco didn't stop as he removed a suit and laid it out at the foot of the bed while Jean just watched.

Without uttering so much as a "good morning" Marco grabbed his clothing, some of his blades, his sheaths, and walked out of the room. At a complete loss as to what just happened Jean sat silently like a knot on a log waiting for some sort of explanation. Once he'd waited more than ten minutes he figured Marco was probably showering and thus he decided to get out of bed and use his phone to move around and dress himself. He had a meeting with that man today, that man responsible for so many people's hardships, and he had to play his part. It was time to dress well, like the son of the prominent congressman that he was. Standing in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door he began to steadily remove his piercings and quaff his hair.

By the time Marco walked back into the room Jean was dressed to the T with a black suit, black vest with a chain to his lapel pocket, a royal purple undershirt, shining dress shoes, and a silver sparkling tie clip pinning his black and royal tie in place. Marco's eye followed him head to toe and it was then Jean realized he was keeping his right eye closed until he'd securely fashioned his leather spade patch over it. Raising his phone from his pocket Jean wanted a good look at Marco's attire so he snapped a picture as Marco posed for it. Of course he'd be wearing a black on black suit with a metallic red tie and a dark red spade pin on his lapel.

"Buongiorno, Amore," Marco placed a hand under his chin and smiled radiantly towards him "you look _amazing."_

Jean puffed out his chest a bit and grinned "Good morning to you too. You don't look half bad yourself, sweetheart."

Marco nodded and dropped his hand as he went to arranging the rest of the arsenal to strap to his body "Hey, you mind helping me out?"

"Sure," Jean agreed though he didn't really know much of what he was doing "what do you need?"

"Hand me those magazines please," Marco gestured first towards them and began instructing Jean to hand him pieces of his arsenal as he slowly filed away every blade but one "the last dagger is yours, Jean."

Turning over the blade in his hands Jean ran his fingers along the edge "Why?"

"Just in case. You need to have something to protect you," Marco smiled as he stuffed the dagger into it's sheath and into the belt he was hiding beneath his suit.

Following suit Jean tucked the blade and it's sheath at his waist "Okay." He knew better than to argue with him right now, when he was like this, he could practically feel the suffocating aura swirling around him. The two were finished getting ready and decided to head downstairs to meet up with the others. Downstairs only Isabel was moving about clearly antsy for the day as well as everyone else. Her hands were shaking as she tried to cary a tea tray to the kitchen. Jean decided to assist her, taking the tray from her hands, and placing it onto the small glass kitchen table.

"Thank you, I'm sorry, I'm-I'm just on edge," she stammered out as he smiled towards her.

Marco patted her head "We all are. Levi's got this he'll be alright."

She looked up to him, emerald eyes shining "Marco."

"Yes? Don't worry I've been tasked regularly with making sure the dumbass doesn't get into too much trouble."

"I see. Thank you." She pushed up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Coffee, love. If you have any. I don't work well on tea, no offense." He tossed her a grin as she moved to the french press coffee machine already grabbing him a mug.

After pouring some she handed him the mug "I figured as much--"

Her sentence was interrupted by Marco who pressed a finger to his lips "Shh. Someone is here." No less than a few moments later there was a knock at the door with a light hand. Isabel stared at him in awe for a few moments before she made her way to the door cautiously. In preparation Jean withdrew his phone with HueVue already pulled up to examine who was at the door. After Isabel opened the door she immediately stepped aside and Marco stood tall, chest out, chin up as he stood in front of what Jean could only guess were his people. The crowd of 12 men was immense but Jean snapped a photo of an ashen blonde man with hunter green and golden eyes emitting the aura Marco often did. Even he had to admit the man instilled fear.

Marco addressed them in Italian before the man kissed Marco's left cheek, then his right, and pulled a ring from his own finger sliding it over Marco's. Following his lead, the rest of the men placed their right arm over their chests in a fist and bowed lowly towards him. Chuckling, Marco waved them up with a flourish of his wrist and each greeted him the way the blonde had only Marco hadn't returned the favor to any of the others. Each was carrying a bag and Jean wasn't stupid; he had a good feeling he knew what lie in each of the bags.

"Nero," Marco began as he called toward the ashen blonde "I'd like you to meet someone."

He moved swiftly across the room as he introduced Isabel "This is Levi's little sister, Isabel Magnolia, and this is her home please assure she receives the utmost respect as well as the gift I instructed you to bring."

From his lapel the man pulled a freshly bound stack of euros and handed it to Isabel "For your troubles, from Marco and the rest of us, please take this."

Isabel stared wide-eyed as she switched from Nero to Marco "I-I, Marco, I-I-I"

She was stammering and Marco simply embraced her gently "Take it. You're helping us and in return, I'm helping you, you're basically family. I take care of my family. If there's anything you ever need do not hesitate to call on me or Nero. He'll take care of you as I would."

The tears in her eyes began to cascade down her cheeks as she nodded and squeezed Marco tight "T-Thank you. This--You're---I-- Thank you."

He grinned and nodded as she scurried off turning then to wrap an arm around Jean's waist "Nero, someone else you should meet. Someone _much_ more important. Mi amore, Jean Kirschtein."

His eyes narrowed at Jean as he sized him up and he suddenly felt a chill run down his body beneath his gaze "Young Master..."

"Do not assume that tone with me, Nero," Marco's voice dropped as the atmosphere in the room plunged. Jean looked up and over to Marco with concern. Did Nero not like him? Was he not good enough to be standing at Marco's side? Nero's intense stare was spine tingling and enough to make him feel like he was being overly criticized. Out of pure habit he instinctively straightened his spine and firmly planted his hand at Marco's right hip.

Jean opened his mouth as he made direct eye contact with Nero, refusing to shrink beneath the gaze "Listen. I do not care what is that _you_ think of me. All that matters is I'm good enough for Marco and that means I don't need to be good enough in your eyes. His are the only ones that matter to me so kindly take your impression of me and **shove it.** You know _nothing_ about me to judge me upon a simple glance."

Marco looked over to him, more than surprised at his words along with everyone else in the room "Wow Jean. I'm glad you think that way."

His lips were stolen quickly before he could register it and Nero's lips curled into a sinister smirk "Forgive me. It seems I have in fact misjudged you, however, my immediate response was to how the men would take this news, how they may treat this, or you, and nothing else. Marco holds a--"

"I'm fully aware of his place, thank you, Nero was it? I appreciate the concern but I can hold my own even against the likes of Marco here," Jean retorted quickly, interrupting him before he finished.

The aura around the man had fallen from intimidating to subservient within seconds and he lowered his head to both Marco and Jean "I see. Yes, my name is Nero Martello. It is certainly a pleasure to meet the man who can indeed stand toe to toe with The Young Master."

He chuckled at the title given to Marco and Jean lowered his own head to him "Jean Kirschtein, pleasure. Marco isn't easy to reign in but it can be done. Isn't that right?"

Marco grinned and shrugged his shoulders "Perhaps it is. Only you and my mother think so. Not even Nero finds me easy to control, and trust me, he tries more than _anyone."_

"I'm your boyfriend and you will consider my feelings or I will refuse to consider _various_ things. You get me?" Jean pointed a finger to him and Nero laughed.

It was a strange sound to hear, it was almost pleasant "I see. It is more like The Young Master has his work cut out for him more so than you do for you. If you wouldn't mind I would insist you be greeted formally as The Young Master's lover." Jean stared, blinking slowly, quite unsure of what he meant when Marco stepped away from him and nodded to Nero. Marco released his waist and stood just beside him as his men approached him and bowed just as they had to Marco before kissing his cheeks. He hadn't a singular idea of how to feel. He'd never been kissed my so many men and even Nero repeated the action which took him even more so confused.

The glorious sound of Marco's soft laughter caught his ears and he turned to him only to be met with a kiss upon his lips. It was slow and sweet. There was just enough heat and spark on his tongue to let him know that he was both appreciative of him and in awe. Marco tugged him closer and placed a hand at his lower back, then broke the kiss to plant a light peck to his forehead. All eyes were on them which made Jean blush to the tips of his ears but with Marco holding him so closely it was hard to find a care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the way Marco was holding him, the way he'd kissed him, and the way he'd lifted his chin to stare at him and kiss him sweetly once again before releasing him.

He shifted his attention to Nero "Did you bring what I asked?"

"Yes sir. They are in their cases. I also brought along your own if you'd like it." Nero whistled and two blank cases were brought in front of him.

Nero had the men holding them pop open the cases revealing the pistols inside each "I appreciate it. Jean," he picked up the singular blue steel pistol and looked to him "you know how to use a firearm correct?"

The question puzzled him for a moment "In theory? I've only ever shot a gun twice."

"Remember what I said about the dagger?" Marco looked over his shoulder as he held the pistol in his hands.

"Just in case?" Jean posed.

Marco handed him the pistol switching the safety on "Just in case."

"I--Marco, I can't take this--" Jean stammered, he didn't know what to do or what to say.

"You can and you will. This is the safety. Flip it off, pull the slide, and squeeze the trigger. Simple. Aim to **kill** not to maim......" Marco placed a hand under Jean's and placed the pistol atop them in his open palm.

His wrist flexed as he tried not to drop the pistol, it had more heft than he'd assumed "Okay."

"Good," Marco spun him around and tugged up his shirt to place it at the small of his back "this is my personal pistol. Take care of it."

"Okay," was all he could say, he didn't want to use it, but he knew to agree.

"Go sit in the living room. I have to help get some things situated for back home and you need to rest." He kissed his temple and Jean obeyed him. So much had happened in just a span of half of an hour within meeting Marco's people. There was so much to take in and let soak. Somehow he'd managed to choke back his own fear and stand up for himself in front of a mob boss and then move to be greeted as the lover of a different mob boss. It was clear Marco was well respected and taken incredibly seriously but as he watched them speak and gesticulate from the den he couldn't help but see why. Marco was a good leader. He had so many good qualities, of course he had flaws as well, but that made him _human_ and **that** made Jean's chest ache. In the end, no matter how skilled someone was, human meant mortal.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, ladies & gents & everyone in between, welcome back. We're approaching the ending of the events of StS and so new information will begin coming forward since, to those who know what happened, there was a gap left in perspective. I've gotten a lot of this outlined along with the next part of the series. Before too long I'll begin trying to form a decent schedule with my updating as it's all one HUGE blob right now. Do enjoy guys!
> 
> Bonne chance, mon chevalier - Good luck, my knight.  
> Je t'aime, ma fleur - I love you my flower.  
> Buona fortuna - Good luck
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Marco was practically perfect and everything he wished he was: strong, smart, influential, charismatic, charming, intuitive, and many others things he saw in him that he didn't see in the mirror. His mind was lost running rampant as he realized how close the time was approaching to set off. Part of him was ready, the adrenaline already running through his veins, while the other half of him wanted to tuck tail and run so he and Marco could be safe. Marco had been right though. It wasn't the first time someone would want him dead or that he would be in this situation. To accept Marco, and who he really was, he'd have to accept even this. While Marco vowed to protect him, it was then that Jean too decided to ensure he'd look after Marco in every sense of the word: whatever he needed from him he'd give.

While he was busy being lost inside his own head Marco and the others came into the living area as well as Erwin, Mike, Ymir, and Krista. Everyone it seemed was beyond ready to get the ball on the roll. Isabel had been busying herself in the kitchen, at least they had thought, but when she exited she was holding nothing. The air in the room chilled and the scent of light cologne with fruity and clean undertones came wafting to his nostrils. All heads turned towards the staircase as Levi was walking down them. Quickly Jean pulled his phone and snapped a photo to see why everyone looked so in awe.

His mouth even fell as he stared at the photo and put it together in his head. He was certainly dressed sharply in a black and red suit with a bright white tie that had a spade at the bottom and an 'A' resting in the center of his windsor knot. Marco was on his feet and whistling Nero over once Levi's feet hit the floor. Nero was standing at Marco's side the black pistol case in his hands from earlier. Marco gestured to him and Nero smiled and opened the case walking up to Levi as he presented him with the pistols inside the case, drawing Levi's eyes almost immediately. The black metal had always been Levi's style but once he saw the engravings on the hilt his eyes turned to Marco with a bright grin.

Marco shrugged "I was going to give them to you for your birthday but I figured now was a good time. Just like you like. Two sharp pistols for one _hell_ of a sharp outfit, you plan on telling them we're coming?"

Levi tossed the weight of the gun around before sliding down the magazines of each, noting that they were loaded before sliding them into his waistband "Is cover your ears," when Erwin grabbed her, placing his large hands over her head he nodded for him to continue "I plan on dressing well if I die today. You can let her go, now. I'm gonna let them know the prodigy returns with an **insatiable** bloodlust. I'm killing _anyone_ who gets in my way and I suggest that you all the do the same. No one here is aiming to maim only to kill." He turned to Nero with a low nod of his head "Nero, it's good to see you again, thank you for being so prompt with your boys. Gentlemen, ladies, let's go over this plan one more time. Jean, you're going to go into the building with the intention of meeting with Kenny and you'll walk in holding the door open for the person behind you, Krista. Once you go in approach the receptionist, tell them of your meeting, and you'll be asked to wait. Krista will keep them occupied as Mike cuts the power to the building, keeping them from triggering any backup alarms. Ymir, Mikasa, Marco and I will come in once the lights are out. Jean, when we're going in you're going _out_ , we can't have you in there as you're not trained nor can you function well enough to see."

Jean did his best to nod and soak in the task while Levi continued once again "By the time the lights are off, most likely, his guys are gonna find us and the place is going to light up like America on their independence day. Erwin is going to lead Marco, Mikasa, Ymir, Krista and the guys down to the basement as Nero and his men cover you. I'm heading upstairs to the top floor. Kenny is mine. When I'm done, I'll meet you in the basement, which is going to be heavily guarded. Mike is already in the building so Erwin it's up to you to leave now, and get the plan rolling, if anything comes up send me a song. The probability that someone dies here is very high, make no mistake, he's been after us for years and he's not going to let us just walk away. Pack heavily, arm to the teeth. Is everyone clear on their role? Any objections? Suggestions?" Everyone shook their head and Erwin stepped up to him, clasping him on the shoulder with a hearty thump and light nod before walking out of the house and heading to the building.

Isabel walked up to Levi with watery eyes as she slung her arms around "Be careful, please, _please,_ please come back. Bonne chance, mon chevalier. Let the star guide you."

Pulling her tightly into his embrace he kissed her cheek as the tears fell "Don't I always? Je t'aime ma fleur. I told you before, I will come back. Please don't cry." She only sobbed harder into his chest as he whispered to her. He gently patted her hair and put his hands to his shoulders moving her back as he smiled and kissed her forehead. Everyone was staring at the spectacle not knowing how to react to Levi acting so nurturing. Once she calmed down and took a step back everyone began strapping themselves with knives and anything else they thought they might need. Within the hour everyone was biding their time as they mentally prepared for the actions about to take place. When the time was 25 minutes until 3 pm everyone began leaving, walking to the building would be easier, aside from Jean and Krista who would arrive in a taxi. Everyone said their goodbyes to Isabel as they all headed out of the house leaving her to sob and wonder who, if any, wouldn't be coming back.

Marco whistled for a cab and looked to Jean who was trying not to let his nerves get to him "The moments the lights flicker, Jean, get out. You'll have one chance to see your signal. Get out. Run back here. Run anywhere just get out."

He was quickly embraced by Marco's strong arms around him and he could almost feel his resolve crumbling the longer he stayed "Okay. Marco, look at me," he glanced up meeting his umber eye and placed a hand to his cheek "I'm gonna be okay. I have you and you have me, so please, _please_ be safe."

"I promise. Go now, I'll see you soon. Buona fortuna." With another kiss to his lips Marco was pulling away and opening the door to a cab as it slowed and stopped, ushering him inside. Marco's features were laced with concern as he looked back at him through the window. Krista was seated next to him and patted his knee reassuringly. It was then he had to imagine that she was experiencing the same thing. Ymir was back with Marco and part of the team that would be storming it; she had to be just as worried internally as he was.

She spoke softly and kindly "He'll be alright, Jean. He didn't make it to be Levi's right hand man without talent. You just do your part and make it easier for him to come back to you in one piece, okay?"

His eyes met hers as he pathetically attempted a half smile "Yeah......thanks. I guess it's time."

The imposing building came into view and a foreboding aura began encircling Jean's gut as Krista nodded "It is. You get out here at the front door and I'll have the driver pull away and drop me off just out of camera sight. I'll be right behind you when you open that door though don't worry. Good luck, Jean." She gave him a peck on the cheek and a brilliant smile as he tried to choke back his urge to either purge his stomach or run. He took a deep breath trying to steel his resolve and school his features then exited the cab.

Jean had arrived at the front of the towering glass building about 15 minutes before the scheduled meeting time. Krista was waiting off to the side to follow behind him as he heard a gentle snap of a twig from somewhere behind him. Swallowing hard, he approached the door and noticed a keypad adjacent to the door. There was never anything said about the keypad, but there was a video call button, so he pushed it in and a man's voice came over the speaker.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes, I have a meeting with Mr. Ackerman at 3pm," Jean cleared his throat and impersonated his father's aura of confidence and stoicism.

"Kirschtein?" The man's voice questioned.

Jean responded curtly "Yes, sir."

"Alright, you're clear. He'll be with you in just a moment." A light by the door flashed and Krista quickly snuck behind him grabbing the door as it opened. She snuck in behind him quietly, leaving a penny in the crack of the door before she approached the man behind the receptionist's desk. Jean took a seat on the hard, porcelain, art deco styled chair in the lobby. It was clear from a glance around the room that the man was obviously trying way too hard, being a showboat, with atrocious decorating sense. Just looking at the lobby made him want to vomit. It was an utter disaster. Kenny Ackerman should have hired his decorator or himself because he could spend as much money as he wanted it still wouldn't help understanding that combining certain styles of decor was a bad idea. Jean felt more than a bit anxious until he glanced over to see Christa flirting with the man behind the computer, taking his hand in her own, wearing a seductively sweet smile. If he hadn't been watching the girl's hand he wouldn't have ever noticed the end of a hypodermic needle peeking out of her sleeve. Her sly smile and a bat of those pretty eyes was all it took to have the man so entranced he hadn't even noticed. The moment the needle was under his fingernail it was too late for him to jerk back as she laid her arm against the counter sliding it to push the plunger of the needle.

Once the receptionist began to get dizzy and his head began to lull the lights in the building flickered. That was his sign. He knew it yet why couldn't he move? His feet were firmly rooted to the ground and then the lights were shut off. Everything was spinning in slow motion and it was one large haze. His heart was beating so quickly in his chest he hadn't any idea what to do. It was just seconds after when Christa grabbed his arm and began pushing him back that Marco pulled open the heavy steel door and the penny keeping it open flew across the room.

He knew it was his job to get out of the building but he had frozen and failed. His feet wouldn't carry him the short distance towards the door and even know it was too late. The door was operated on the electrical system and now it was shut: shut for good. Essentially he was now trapped inside with everyone as the fighting began to take place. Jean watched as Marco came in through the door ripping his eyepatch off and shoving it into his pocket as he reached behind his back for his pistols. Everything had seemed to be slowing down again putting him in a thick haze. Even though he could barely see his ears were picking up no sound at all.

It wasn't until a gunshot was fired right by his ear that everything caught back up to speed, quickly plunging him into the cacophonous sounds of screams, gunshots, and hellacious ringing. Marco was cursing him in Italian as he roughly shoved him aside pointing at the table. While he guessed that meant take cover he looked to the door which was now locked shut, but a flash of bright white caught his eyes and he saw Levi heading up the stairs.

By the time sound finally caught up to him it was Erwin shoving aside the table Marco had gestured to **"Get down, idiot!!"**

His shoulder was seized and he was pushed to the ground as Marco cut through a slew of Kenny's assassins and all he could respond with was "I'm sorry!" He tired to keep his head down and do as he was told but they needed to get out of the lobby. They had to make progress and get to the lower levels but the elevators were out. He wasn't stupid, he'd seen enough movies to know stairwells were traps and allowed one to be funnelled. If they were funnelled into a small area there was no doubt they'd be slaughtered. Nero, his grunts, Mikasa, Ymir, Erwin, Christa, and Marco would have to take out everyone on the floor before they moved at all.

Jean looked up and watched as countless bodies fell lifeless to the floor, blood splattering to the walls like aerosol paint while bullets ripped through bone and walls alike. It was horrendous but these men, and women, were trying to kill people he cared for and thus, he found himself unable to care. It was disheartening to think of lives ending so brutally but it was a life they all chose, as Marco said, and knew the consequences. It wasn't very long at all before the floor was devoid of any life but those related to the Spade Soldiers. Marco looked back over his shoulder, blades drawn and brandished, face slathered in other's blood as he ushered everyone down to the next floor.

Even the way he was so calm in the face of extreme danger, this must have been what made him a good leader. Marco was extraordinary and there was no doubting that. He continued and stuck close as everyone made their way to the firefight awaiting them on the next floor. It was uncomfortable watching but even more hiding. He felt like he wasn't good enough to be there with them. He was useless to them and didn't even know the first thing on how to help or even defend himself properly. They needed to get the 3rd floor basement where they knew Eren was being kept but he had no idea how they were supposed to clear 5 more floors.

Fortunately for him, and everyone else, the second and third floors were clear.....which was abnormal. It could have only meant one thing and that was that they were all planning to storm them harder on the next floors. The basement floors were overrun with enemies trying to pick them off but luckily they managed to get down to the 3rd basement floor with minimal casualties. Some of Marco's men had fallen laying suppressing fire for them and he heard Marco mutter something before a gleam caught in his eyes and it was like something feral unleashed inside of him. Marco;s movements were fast, precise, calculated, and methodical.

Jean couldn't see very well anyway, both for his own disability and for the sake of his adrenaline blindness causing his body to act on pure flight or fight instinct. He was a bit thankful that most of what he saw Marco doing couldn't register completely. Hacking and slashing his way through scores of drones coming to attack them, Marco easily cut them down and everyone else was busy with their own targets and their own fights. Some had some cuts and gashes here and there but mostly they still had a decent group.

As he began to lift his head he saw a sight that made his blood run hot in his veins. Someone had gotten the drop on Marco. A large man came from behind him throwing a punch straight to his jaw and taking him off balance. The moment Marco turned it was hard to miss the flare of pure rage and fury he saw gleaming in Marco's eyes even from his current distance. It looked like Marco knew the man, though Jean hadn't even see him before, and it was all the more obvious when Marco's smile twisted into something so cruel and sinister it turned his stomach.

"Who taught you how to hit, your _wife?!_ " Marco cracked his jaw and lunged forward "Come, on Reiner, you can hit better than that. Don't be a bitch now!" Marco's sickle blade was drawn at his hip as a smaller flaying blade was bared in his right hand. Jean's heart almost stopped the very moment he saw a man coming up from behind Marco getting ready to seize control of his arms. Before he could scream, shout out to him, a shot was fired between the taller man's eyes, dropping him instantly, and spraying brain matter against the back wall. The momentary distraction had caused Marco's opponent to stare wide-eyed and horrified at the sight in front of him. That had given Marco the opportunity to slice through his jugular vein, slicing his throat open from one side to the other. Arterial spray covered his face as the man sputtered, his broad body falling to it's knees before crumpling and slumping over to the ground. Marco didn't think before moving to the next target.

Jean moved to get up, his legs finally working as he saw someone approaching Marco from the side brandishing a knife. He'd forgotten about his own protective equipment and simply moved to push Marco out of the way. Not being very versed in the art of a battleground, Jean shouted, drawing attention to himself. Marco's eyes bulged as he slung Jean against the wall by the collar of his shirt. The pain he felt being slammed so hard against the concrete wall was nothing compared to the pain ripping and stinging from his thigh. There was a warmth flowing down his leg but before he could inspect it a loud gunshot rang out by his ear and his face was suddenly covered in the warmth of blood that was not his own.

Marco groaned as he slumped to the floor dragging a pistol out of his waistband to fire a round at the man who'd run a blade into the side of Jean's thigh. Immediately it all stopped. Jean's cognitive abilities no longer allowed for him to take into account their surroundings. Blood was pouring profusely from Marco's chest and Jean couldn't tell where it was coming from. His mind was racing as his hands soared over Marco, his hands stained in the thick ooze from his chest trying to find the origin and stop the bleeding. After a shout of pain from Marco and a slap to his face Jean stopped his actions abruptly.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing, you goddamned fool?! I'm fine! Don't worry abo-- **BEHIND YOU! DUCK!"** As Marco screamed at him Marco used his right hand to squeeze the trigger on his pistol to fire a shot at the man behind Jean. Shifting his head over his shoulder it finally hit Jean that this was it. There was no running anymore. Marco was in danger and something flipped a switch in his brain: no one was going to hurt Marco. No one. They'd have to go through him first, get through his fucking corpse, wade through his blood if they wanted Marco, his own pain be damned.

He could barely see; rage, adrenaline, his colorblindness affecting everything at every turn he made. This, however, was no time for that. His body acted without his mind and he found his fingers curling around grip of the pistol packed at the small of his back. Eyes closing, his fingers did the work as he recalled Marco flipping the safety and watching Levi slide back the side on his own pistols. Unknowing of his own actions Jean's eyes rested shut and his ears pricked at the nearest motion and fired. One shot after another and Marco began to catch on to him using his hearing, his scent, anything he could use to pinpoint locations of heavier boot steps, of scents not associated with his team, of their breathing patterns, or their voices. Jean's actions were near flawless as he emptied the single magazine he had in the gun.

Lights flickered on overhead and Jean's eyes opened to see a heap of bodies laying around them. Blood pooled out onto the floor almost covering the entire space. As far as he could everything was stained red even his own skin. Marco's pistol fell from his now shaking hand as he discovered what he'd done. He didn't know how, nor why, but he knew it was him. The gunpowder's acrid stench was prevalent on his hands but as he hit the ground, blood streaming down his right leg as it gave beneath him, he looked over to Marco. His skin was turning a bit pale, he'd lost a lot of blood, and they needed to get him out of there. Marco had taken a bullet for him and Jean had taken a knife for him but he wasn't ready to let him go like this. Definitely not like this.

"Marco! **Marco!** " Jean put his hands on the sides of Marco's face neglecting the blood he had stained on his skin.

Blinking slowly Marco groaned before leaning his head back against the wall _"...Jean?"_

"Yeah, baby, it's me. I'm here." Jean winced at his own pain and kissed Marco's bloody forehead softly moving to try to find his wound only to realize that Marco's right hand was under his jacket pressing it himself. This was worst case scenario....at least he thought it was. Gunshots rattled through the air once again and everyone froze. Looking to some of Marco's men he snapped his fingers and slipped his hand behind Marco "Help me get him to his feet. He needs to get to a doctor _immediately!"_ As he tried to support his own weight, and Marco's, one of Marco's men peeled him off Marco and had someone move to assist him as well.

The air hung heavy with thick scents of copper and gunpowder but now it was heavy with something else. Screaming. Blood curdling, agonizing screams that were transitioning into sobs paired with the sound of scraping metal. With assistance everyone made their way to the steel door that led to the room where Eren and Hanji had been kept. As they approached the pain wracked sobs were revealed to be none other than Levi's. He was repeatedly stabbing, what Jean guessed to be, Kenny's body, over and over again, letting the  blood spray over his skin like rain as he continued to make it the bloodiest murder he would ever commit.

Jean's eyes darted around the room and it was then he saw something he had to lunge to Mikasa for. His arms flung around her to keep her from seeing Eren's body laying on the concrete floor with 2 bullet holes torn through his upper torso. Eren's blood was pooling with Kenny's and there might have been some of Levi's as well but at the point it was hard to tell. While Levi was busy releasing his rage, a woman with tattered clothes and cracked glasses walked towards them and was warmly embraced. Ymir, Krista, Jean, and Erwin walked through the room hearing the scream mangled sobs leaving Levi's throat.

Erwin came up from behind Levi grabbing his arm as he raised it over his head before plunging the implement back into the practically liquefied corpse "Levi! **LEVI!** It's over! It's alright, it's over...it's over, we need to get out of here. People need to get to the hospital." Levi dropped his arms letting the scalpel drop from his fingers as he slumped over before falling to the side, unconscious, from blood loss and shock. Erwin picked him up careful to avoid the puncture by his hip and the slash up his sternum. Jean assisted in picking up Eren's body as the woman from before looked over to Erwin with a smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The schedule for this fic is weekly on Sundays! Look forward to it updating unless otherwise stated! I hope that you will enjoy the story as it continues to progress! This begins the unknown portion of it all so here we go! It's time to get to what happened during Eren's absence in StS!
> 
> Translations: Some are explained so I'll simply put the ones are not.
> 
> Pronto - Greeting used when answering the phone   
> Se quell'idiota di mio figlio è in ospedale allora devo andarci anch'io. Portatemi da mio figlio." - "If my idiot son is in the hospital I'm going too. Take me to my son."  
> "Sì...Ma." - "Yes, Mom."  
> fantastico - fantastic (not that many needed that one)
> 
>  
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

They needed to do a body count. Who was alive, wounded, and dead they didn't all know yet. It was too soon to know of the extent of everyone's damages and bang ups, but it was clear that not everyone made it out alive......painfully obvious. Mike had taken to carrying Eren's body as Mikasa sobbed into the older, bespectacled, brunette woman's chest. It was then however that there might have been some hope restored. Holding onto him so closely it seemed that Mike had readjusted his grip and noticed the faintest of a pulse beneath Eren's skin. Once they were in a cleared area of the city an ambulance was called for Eren, Levi, Hanji, and Marco. Jean wasn't leaving Marco, Mikasa had gone with Eren, while Erwin rode along with Levi and everyone else was more than agreeing to take care of their own wounds even when everyone insisted.

The hours passed by with an agonizing wait without Jean knowing what was wrong at the hospital. As an American he was simply cleaned of most the blood on his skin, patched up very quickly, and made sure he was cared for before he left the room. His leg was sore, and he'd never had stitches before but he didn't care about that. He wanted to see Marco and they wouldn't let him. There was no information being given and he was the worst mix of infuriated and in pain. Something was wrong here. There was no one to talk to, no one that could understand him or help him get the information he needed, and it was driving him insane.

As he began to feel sobs wrack his chest he received a phone call from an unknown number. It was a bit strange. He knew he probably shouldn't answer it. What if it was someone from that company? Oh well, he wasn't about to care about what they could do from over the phone.

Sliding his finger across the screen he answered the call "Hello?"

A feminine voice came over the phone, one he recognized, "Hello? Jean? It's Mikasa."

"Hey....how's Eren?" His voice lowered as she paused on the other end.

"Eren is being flown back to the US for medical care. He's, uh, he's in a coma. We don't know if he'll come out of it. I'm on the first plane out with him. How is Marco?"

"Oh my god, Mikasa, I'm _so_ sorry. I'll be there as soon as I am able."

"Jean it's okay....you need to worry about Marco. How is he?"

"I-," his voice shook, he didn't know what to say or how to say it as his composure cracked "I-I d-don't know. They won't let me see him, and I can barely understand them, and I don't know what to do Mikasa!"

Her voice was almost soothing as she attempted to calm him "Okay, you need to take things slowly. Chances are they've moved to operate on him and discovered who he is. They're not going to want to touch him. You need to have him air lifted back to Italy. I think if you can get Krista to your floor you should be able to get more."

"Thank you, thank you, Mikasa. Please keep me updated on Eren."

"I will. I've sent you Krista's number. Good luck, Jean. Take Care." With her final words the call was ended and Jean sat there staring up at fluorescent lighting. He had been lucky to escape with the wounds he had but he couldn't think of that now. His fingers immediately moved to dial the number in the text message that Mikasa had sent him. Holding the phone to his ear he awaited the moment he'd hear a voice.

"Mmm, hello?" Krista's voice sounded puzzled but nonetheless as sweet as always.

"Uh, Krista? It's...it's Jean. Mikasa told me to call you. The hospital isn't letting me see Marco and I...--" he managed to push out from his sore throat.

Krista's tone immediately changed "I see. I will be there as soon as I can. What floor are you on?"

"7th in the lobby."

"Be there shortly. Ymir is coming too." That was all there was to say before the line went dead. At least he now had some hope, though he had to be honest, he had no clue what the two of them could do if they refused to operate on Marco because of who he was. Chances were he was likely doped up and handcuffed or something like you see in the movies and there was no way of getting him out of there. His mind began to pose situations each one worse than the last until at least another half hour had passed and he was biting back another pain pill that had been given to him.

Soon he felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder and he shifted quickly to see Ymir's crooked, toothy grin "What's up, Champ?"

"Ymir," he breathed in a sigh of relief "thank god. Maybe you can do something because Marco is--"

"Shhh. Calm down. You're injured too. Don't need you worked up either now tell me who told you that you couldn't see him." Jean got shakily to his feet and gestured to a man in surgical scrubs behind the nurse's station. Ymir patted his shoulder and tugged him alongside her as the two walked over to the station. Ymir was speaking in French and he could understand only a few bits and pieces of her threatening words but it was clear that something she'd said had a profound effect. Removing an insignia ring from her pocket she slid it over her index finger and grinned at the man. His eyes widened and it took Jean a moment to register that the ring looked very similar to the design Marco's ring that he'd worn earlier.

He then remembered that Ymir was in fact a member of the Martello family. She had more pull than he had realized and soon Krista was bounding around the corner with a thin sheet of paper rolled in her hands. Jean watched carefully as her bright smile only grew far more wicked as she handed the paper over to the surgeon. The man dropped the paper and began nodding furiously towards the two of them. Ymir walked back over to him and placed a hand on him to pull him along as they headed back in the hospital. Leading the way was the surgeon who'd somehow been goaded into allowing them back.

Nurses began clamoring to the room and Jean was darting his eyes around the busy corridors. He didn't know what Ymir and Krista had done but he knew it was more than likely something underhanded. He'd been informed that they were going to move Marco to Tarkeggi University Hospital back in Italy. Jean was being allowed to go with him but they were preparing to leave immediately while Marco was still under the influence of heavy narcotics. There was no way to really thank Ymir and Krista for what they had done for both him and Marco but he found himself hugging them both and thanking them repeatably. Ymir gave him a number to call when they arrived along with her own and told him to remind the surgeon of their deal with his dear wife.

Jean stared back at her a bit concerned about her threatening his family but she was laughing and brushing it off as an empty threat. She informed it that it was as simple as finding out a families debt, and threatening to bury them in it, not something like murder. It made him feel a little better about extortion but Marco was being rushed out and there wasn't more time to thank them. They simply waved him off with a smile and wished him the best. He reciprocated the action and walked off ready to go with Marco on the way back to Italy.

Seeing him in the hospital's stretcher hooked to various machines with tubes and other medical devices in his skin made him sick to his stomach. He looked awful and it was all his fault. During the entire extent of the trip Jean kept a hand on Marco's and awaited the moment they landed on the helipad atop the hospital. In the very moment they landed Jean's fingers dialed the number that Ymir had given him. Marco was being rushed into the OR while he was on the phone trying to speak to whoever it was that Ymir had told him to speak with.

Suddenly a voice was in his ear "Pronto." 

"Uhm, hello? I was told to call this number by Ymir." He regretted not asking for her last name, maybe it was Martello, but whatever it was he hoped this man understood.

After a moment the voice was speaking heavily accented English "Yes? Is there something wrong?"

"My name is Jean Kirschtein and I'm at the hospital with Marco. He's going to have surgery and I--"

"Which hospital, boy?"

"I, uh, I can't read Italian but it was something University Hospital. It started with a T."

"Tarkeggi University Hospital. I will be awaiting you out front in a black Mercedes Benz S class in approximately ten minutes. You will get in and I will bring you to the estate as there is something you will need before they touch The Young Master." There was a click before the line went dead and Jean was plunged back to his own mind. He was immediately thinking of where to get to Marco. Once again, however, he was met with the same problem he had encountered with the French surgeon. The moment his tattoo was seen all hands refused to touch him. Jean was over his head in rage. Marco could die and these people were fucking worried about a goddamn tattoo?!

He was unable to secure control over his own rage and was about to scream at the surgeon before his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Removing it quickly he checked the incoming message. It was from the number he'd called before informing him that he was outside awaiting him. Jean took a deep breath and schooled himself appropriately before instructing them that they were to keep Marco comfortable until he returned. At least he was given that kind of courtesy.

Upon walking outside Jean was met by a man standing alongside a vehicle "Are you a Mr. Jean Kirschtein?"

Jean removed his phone and snapped a photo of the man "Ah, yes, I am. Excuse me for the photo I needed it to verify the vehicle color."

"Of course, please, get in," the man offered as he opened the door and gestured towards the backseat.

Staring a bit skeptically, Jean hesitated "I'm sorry but would you please inform me of who exactly you are?"

The man was about Marco's height with sable brown hair, warm tanned skin, and bright hazel eyes but his smile was a bit dull "I am The Young Master's consigliere. My name is Michelangelo. You may call me Michael but time is important and we need to get back to the estate." Ultimately Jean agreed to the direction and climbed into the back seat of the car. He didn't exactly understand it all but it was for Marco, it was for him, and that meant he'd do anything. The ride to Marco's family's estate seemed to have taken forever and even if he couldn't see it for all it's glory, he knew that it was still magnificent. He stared down a tall, long iron gate at which they stopped before going past. It was reminiscent of his own family estate back in L.A. A familiar cursive script M was in the middle of the gate, giving already the preclusion of elegance as they drove in.

Passing through the gate, he couldn't believe his eyes as they inched closer to the house sitting at the top of the hill. Hedges and flowers lined the way up the mansion as it rested in the center of a clearing with gardens on either side and a pool directly behind it with a small waterfall leading into it. Removing his phone he opened HueVue and examined the home. White and grey seemed to be the color scheme of the building. The home was at a minimum of two stories at least with two veranda's over the first floor. The more he looked around the more he noticed several smaller branch offs of the house which were most likely additions made much later. While the additions looked modern the main section of the house was obviously aged, clear from it's design and the materials from which it was made.

They pulled around the driveway and Michael was quickly out of the car opening his door for him. It felt familiar yet still beyond strange to be waited on someone he didn't even know. When they approached the front door Michael quickly punched in an acess code and held the door for Jean allowing him to enter first. His eyes darted around the foyer moving from once place to another.

"Please, wait here if you would." Michael instructed and he nodded, sure to follow instructions in a mob's compound. A thin woman of about Ace's height with curled waist-length hair passed by. The woman couldn't have been any older than him but her cheeks had been dusted with freckles, not unlike Marco's, and her eyes held the same round, doe eyed shape. Over all just seeing her made his chest ache. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floors as she rounded the corner and disappeared from his view. After a few moments Michael was returning with a black duffle bag tossed over his shoulder.

The woman was stomping through in her heels the moment she saw Michael and began speaking to him in furious, fast paced, Italian before she turned to him "'Chi sei tu?!"

Jean just stared owlishly "Uhhhh...."

Michael shifted his gaze towards Jean "She's asking who you are."

Extending a hand he smiled "Hello, my name is Jean Kirschtein. I'm here to look after Marco."

At the use of Marco's name her eyes softened and she nodded as she shook his hand softly "Dov'é Marco?"

Michael translated for her quickly "She asked where he is..."

"He's in the hospital. He needs major surgery....I am sorry to inform you but he's been shot," he replied as calmly as possible, trying to keep himself from choking. Jean's crestfallen expression, and words, were met with an almost instant, furious response from the woman.

Her tone rose quickly which shocked him straight out of his own misery "Se quell'idiota di mio figlio è in ospedale allora devo andarci anch'io. Portatemi da mio figlio."

Michael was trying to calm her, as she raved and ranted and moved to grab her purse "She is coming with us to visit Marco." Jean didn't believe himself to be in the position to tell an angered woman what she could and could not do and thus they exited the home together. It was an awkward ride back to the hospital. The air was silent, hanging heavy with a palpable tension that Jean was unfamiliar with. He was more than uncomfortable but he decided if this was for Marco he'd deal with it and suck it up. All his thoughts were consumed with Marco that he hadn't even thought of what it was that Michael had brought in the bag. Jean just wanted to help Marco, make sure he was okay, protect him, and look over him while he was unable to care for himself.

Being the first one out of the vehicle before Michael could open his door, Jean made a mad dash for the entrance of the hospital. He felt like he'd been away from him for far too long. His feet felt like lead and his thigh burnt as he trudged through the lobby of the hospital but as far as he was concerned that was trivial. He could hear Michael and the click of his companion's pumps following close behind him as he slowed down. Jean had almost forgotten that they needed him to get up to Marco so he waited in the elevator and held the door for them. His fingers were antsy and all of him was alight with the overwhelming urge to see Marco. When they reached his room Jean stared blankly ahead as his heart sunk. The room was empty.

Michael placed a hand onto his shoulders as they began to tremble "I made a call. He's not out of surgery yet but we can all wait on him to get out."

Jean looked up to him, tears threatening to leak down his cheeks "Thank you." Michael said nothing only nodded in return as he lead both Jean and their company into the room. Overwhelmed, Jean collapsed into a chair against the left side of the wall, curling up a bit as he laid his head against the chair. Michael opened the duffel bag and removed something he couldn't exactly see shoving it inside his lapel as he exited the room. It was hard to pay attention, he'd been up far too long, stressed, and exhausted so his eyes began to feel heavy. Michael had returned with coffee for him, and the woman with them, but it wasn't enough to keep him awake.

Maybe it had been an hour, three, or not even twenty minutes when he awoke, he didn't quite know. His eyes were still heavy and the fluorescent lighting stung but what he saw when he opened them made everything else seem minuscule. Marco was back in the room. The blankets were down around his hips and his chest was bare aside from the wrappings around his neck and chest. There were smaller bandages, bits of white gauze and tape, scattered over the expanse of his tanned torso along with some small sutures along his brow bone.

The woman in the room had her hand gently cupping his jaw as she kissed his forehead gently. Jean's stomach knotted a bit at the spectacle but he was too happy to see Marco's chest not having to heave with the labor of breathing. Gently rising and falling, his breathing seemed easier, Marco in general seemed at ease now. Jean rose apprehensively from the chair and approached his bedside cautiously. He didn't want to interrupt the woman so he moved to the left side of the bed letting his fingers run through Marco's hair. As he smiled down at him softly Marco groaned and cracked his left eye just a hint.

A sound he wasn't quite proud of escaped his lips as Marco tried to lift his arm to him "Cahh! Please don't move!" Marco sighed but before he could say anything the woman in the room was shouting at him and pointing a finger into his chest. Jean was fine with this woman before, but now, no. This woman was going far too far. Marco had just woken up from life saving surgery and she was screaming at him?! No. He'd be fucking damned if someone spoke to him that way.

"Excu--" Jean was interrupted by Michael before he continued.

"She's telling him that he's an idiot for getting hurt and he should have known better. Don't worry. It's okay," Michael smiled as he watched Jean's face turn cherry red.

Marco lowered his head "Sì...Ma."

Her expression softened and she pressed her lips to his cheeks "Marco."

Jean stared still unsure of what was going on until Marco looked over to him "Jean..."

Walking over he titled his head "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Marco asked his voice weak and still strained.

"Please stop talking, Marco," Jean started as he grabbed his hand "you don't need to strain yourself so _please_ just relax. I'm okay aside from some stitches on my thigh, some bruising, and a couple scrapes."

Marco's smile was forced, but still as perfect as always as he turned towards the woman "Jean, this is Camilla Bodt-Martello, my mother."

If Jean's eyes could have physically fallen from their sockets they would have as he stared owlishly at the woman "I'm...I'm sorry? This woman is your _mother?!_ She doesn't even look old enough to be your age."

She grinned as Marco responded "She appreciates that. My mother isn't very well versed in English....suffice to say she can't speak a lick but she _can_ understand a little."

Jean stared back at the woman before stuttering out "I-I, uh, I'm so sorry."

Marco rolled his eyes as he looked up to him "Just shut up and kiss me already." Jean couldn't think of a better thing to do....however he didn't want to do it in front of Marco's mother. First impressions weren't things someone could just bounce back from and sticking his tongue in Marco's mouth in her presence after he awoke from life saving surgery wasn't exactly an image he wanted to give her at their first meeting. He settled instead for a kiss on the tip of his nose and a pinch of his ear.

"I'm not kissing you in front of your mother, idiot," Jean huffed as he moved his chair closer to the bed.

"This boy is your _partner?_ " Michael asked Marco as his gaze raked over him slowly as to scrutinize his every detail.

With a nod Marco continued "Yes, he is, so please inform the rest of the compound he is to be treated just as I am. I'm surprised Nero didn't--"

Jean shook his head solemnly as he interrupted "I'm sorry, Marco. He didn't make it back..."

"So that means--"

"You are the head now. No one else can, suitably, take your place now, Young Master."

Marco let his head lull as he took in the information _"Ah, fantastico._ " 

Jean could hear his tone fall as he spoke so he slipped his hand to Marco's holding it tightly "It'll be okay. I'm here for whatever you need but please, Marco, you need to rest."

Squeezing his hand Marco agreed "Yeah, I think so too. I'm pretty tired. You guys go back to the estate and let everyone know what happened."

Anger welling in his rising voice Jean shook his head furiously "No! I'm not going **anywhere**. I refuse!! I didn't leave you then and I'm not going to **now!** Do you _know_ how long I've waited to know you were going to be okay?! You _promised_ me and I am not afraid to smack the stupid off'a you, Marco Bodt! Go the fuck to sleep and let us worry about everything else. **Got me?!"**

Everyone stared in amazement at Jean's ferocious tenacity while Marco curled an index finger "I do. Come here, Jean."

Bending over the bed, Jean huffed in frustration "What?"

Reaching up with his right hand he tugged Jean down by the collar "Sei un cazzo in culo." His lips pressed against Jean's after his words and though he wanted to break away, he couldn't find the strength of resolve to do so. It'd been all he wanted all day; to know Marco was going to be okay and to kiss that stupid freckled face as proof. The warmth and serenity that came with kissing Marco, those bullshit butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he lived for this, and he hoped that it'd never stop feeling like this. Lost in his flooding emotion Jean placed a hand to Marco's cheek and pushed against him a little harder. Taking solace in his comforting kiss, Jean felt a bit more at ease as the tension in his body began slipping away the longer he indulged himself.

Marco pulled away from him slightly and Jean rested his forehead against Marco's "What did you call me?"

Camilla chuckled as Michael grinned "He called you a pain in the ass."

Jean rolled his eyes and playfully pinched Marco's cheek "If any of us is a pain in the ass I'm pretty sure it's _you_."

With a slight smirk he winked at Jean "I don't recall hearing any complaints in fact I think it was more like _"Oh god~ You're amazing! Harder!"_ hahaha."

Flushing, Jean huffed and crossed his arms as he sat back in his chair "God, you're such a **dick!** Why do I even put up with you again?!"

"Because I'm pretty?"

If he could have hurled a pillow at his head he would have "Shut up and go to sleep Marco!" There was light snickering inside the room as Marco sighed and shut his eye. Leaning forward Jean laid his head on the edge of the bed and took Marco's hand in his own. It was a relaxation method for both of them, finally able to find solace in one another's touch. He only wished he could change out of his suit, and clean the rest of the blood off himself, but Jean had left everything he'd brought with him, aside from what had been on his person, back in Paris. His mind was too busy thinking of Marco and when he was going to get out of this hell now to worry about it. Camilla and Michael were busy speaking to one another, of course in Italian, so he couldn't understand a word shared between them. Deciding it would be best he let himself drift off to sleep once again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you following this spin off/partial sequel I'd like to tell you by reading it you'll have the edge on what is going to be happening in Surrendering the Spade. It will be a story unlike any I've ever done and I hope you'll look forward to getting the hoof up on the others. I'm still unsure right now as to how long this story will be but as it sits right now I know it will be at least 25 chapters so prepare yourselves; it's gonna be a long ride.
> 
>  
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Grazie - Thank you  
> Buongiorno - Good Morning  
> Smettila - Stop that
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

It wasn't to be a good night for sleep. Triage had to come in often to check on Marco's vitals and change his bandages, though it was the same nurse each time which Jean found strange. He later learned that was because most everyone else didn't even want to be on the same floor as Marco let alone touch him. Jean waved it off as idiotic of course but even when he'd left the room to stretch his legs he'd received his own glares and hushed whispers. He was starting to realize just how well known, how _infamous_ , Marco was in his city. At first he simply underestimated the fear, thinking it overly cautious, now he understood just how frightened these people were of him.

Marco had a nasty reputation around the area but he'd actually been looked at as doing some good. Thanks to Marco certain areas of the city had been cleaned up and cleared of the foulest crimes. Of course, Marco ran one of the biggest criminal organizations in the world and thus didn't eliminate all crime, his job was to regulate it and he'd done that. Jean returned to the room come day break and laid back by Marco. He calmly raked his fingers through his hair and nodded as the triage nurse came back into the room to slide a blood pressure cuff beneath his right bicep.

Her voice was gentle and kind as she whispered "Grazie," to him before leaving him be. Every three hours for vitals and changes seemed a bit much but then again he'd been shot and his collarbone had shattered not to mention his other various bruises and bangs. The bullet had burrowed itself into the bone and Marco was going to have a long road of recovery ahead of him. Not even Jean knew how long, they'd only been given estimates, but he knew Marco wasn't going to be in any condition to be taking contracts anytime soon. For now, it seemed Marco was going to spend a while here and so long as he was there that meant Jean would be there.

Several hours later there were people entering the room clad in suit and tie. Jean lifted his head groggily from the bed and glanced around to notice they were all holding gifts of various sorts. Marco was still sound asleep, heavily doped up on pain medication, and so it was up to Jean to rise and clear his eyes to meet this group of people. He shuffled over to the other side of the bed and stood proudly as Michael made his way to the front of the crowd along with Marco's mother who immediately embraced him. It was a bit shocking as both her hands went to his cheeks and she drug him down to kiss his forehead.

Jean allowed the display as he wasn't quite sure of what else to do. Michael then turned to bow deeply to him and upon seeing the display the new guests had as well. Suddenly he felt as if he were on display standing in the center of room as he was bowed to. This felt odd, almost wrong in a way, he felt as if those things should be saved for Marco not him. Camilla drug him over to the chair as she excitedly chattered about something and began to sort through the bag she was carrying on her wrist. Immediately the smell wafted to his nose and that was all it took to know she'd brought him breakfast.

Michael laughed and began to translate for her "She says that she hopes you enjoy breakfast and that hopefully you aren't allergic to anything. I'd like to take the moment and tell you the men in this room are here to deliver gifts to Marco. These are some of the men who work for him and Camilla, and now by extension, work for you as well."

"Excuse me? Work for _m-me_?" Jean questioned.

"Indeed. I must be leaving to prepare funeral arrangements and things so if you'll excuse me," Michael bowed to him and excused himself accordingly.

Camilla quieted as they ate as did the men as if awaiting a queue of some sort so Jean stood and gestured to the window "You can leave your gifts if you'd like. He will see them when he wakes in a few hours."

One man spoke up, his English wasn't perfect but he understood the just of his words "I, uhm, you are Marco's love?" His face heated as he nodded and Camilla stood and responded for him. All the men straightened and lowered their head as she spoke, obviously commanding a great deal of respect among them. Jean watched as the group of around 15 men left their gifts along the windowsill and exited the room quickly. A few had whispered some things that Jean probably assumed were prayers of wishes of warmth but soon after he returned to his silent breakfast with Camilla. It was nerve wracking to be in her presence, the only other person Marco could stand to yell at him, and she was intimidating all her own.

Removing his phone from his pocket he typed out a sentence and slid it to her hoping it had translated right. While not entirely correct she understood his meaning and followed suit slowly typing out a response and having it translated to English. He'd asked her what she had told the men in the room and she simply responded with the fact she told them to sit their shit down and get out so they could eat together in peace. His eyes widened a bit. Camilla was certainly not a woman to take lightly so he asked if he could take her photo and she agreed without asking too much in the reason why.

After he took it he examined it and definitely agreed that Marco had to have gotten most of his looks from his mother. It read her hair and eye color were the same as Marco's, she had the same eye shape, nose, and heavy band of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Typing out to her he told her that she looked gorgeous and it was obviously her that Marco received all his good looks from. She responded with a laugh, a light soft and warm sound that was almost inviting. He'd never had this with his mother, or anyone really, it was nice to experience such warmth.

He had no idea what kind of dish he'd eaten but whatever it had been was certainly delicious. The coffee had been the most instrumental in awakening him successfully but he soon found himself in the position he'd been in earlier. Jean leaned over the bed and kept touch with some piece of Marco, whether it be his fingertips or forearm, so long as he was touching him it was okay. Camilla had joined him at Marco's opposite bedside casually sitting and stroking her son's hair.

It wasn't long before Marco was stirring and reaching out for Jean "Mmm buongiorno, ma', good morning Jean."

Jean smiled as he looked up and kissed the back of his hand "Good morning, Marco."

Camilla ruffled his already ruined bedhead as he tried to shift away from her "Smettila!" (Stop that)

"Hahaha, oh that's _priceless._ Look at you, Marco," Jean jested as he stood from his chair and moved to kiss him softly.

"Mmhmm, look at me," Marco pouted "I'm being _abused_ by my mother and my boyfriend is laughing while I'm bedridden."

"Oh please. Don't act like you're _soooo_ pathetic," Jean cooed as he kissed him again.

Dragging him down a bit Marco tried his hardest to yank him into the bed but only caused himself pain " **Ouch!** "

Flicking him in the head Jean decided to kick off his shoes and lay along his side in the small bed "Be more careful. I'm not going to be any nicer to you even if you almost got yourself killed for me."

Taking comfort in Jean's embrace Marco laid his head against his chest "You almost got yourself killed for me too. A nick closer and you would have bled out faster than I would have. Femoral artery right?"

Index finger dragging over his thigh Jean jumped a moment " **Hey!** Watch it. That just proves we're _both_ stupid enough to die for each other. Now, I need to get up and take a shower."

Marco tugged on his ear "Shh. I imagine all your things are still in Paris so go back to the estate, go to my desk, check the bottom righthand drawer, and remove....hmmm....I think 3/4ths of what is there should be fine. Take it and have Michael take you to my usual places. I also need you to grab a few things for me on the way back. I will have a list sent back with you."

"What are you talking about?" Jean shook his head a bit, puzzled as to what exactly he was asking of him.

"I need you to bring me something and you need to change. Your suit is still covered in blood and most of it isn't yours. Just go back to the estate, get what I told you from my desk, go to my bedroom and find something that will fit you. Also, let me have your phone." Jean reluctantly handed over his cellphone as Marco made a quick phone call. By quick, he'd meant it, after a couple sentences he was hanging up and handing the device back to Jean. He hated the idea of leaving Marco alone. He didn't trust these people in the hospital especially after seeing how they reacted to him upon arrival.

"Okay," Jean agreed "but I don't like leaving you alone. I don't _trust_ this place."

Giving a quick snort Marco huffed and Camilla reached over to flick him between the eyes "Idiot. My mother will stay here and if you think she won't kill someone for trying to touch me you'd be _extremely_ wrong. I'll be okay. Just go. Michael is waiting downstairs to take you around town and help out for the day so go on, get out."

He rubbed the space Camilla had flicked softly before rolling off the bed and sliding on his shoes "Okay, okay, you two. I get it. I'll be back later." As he made his way to the door he turned his head over his shoulder "Marco?"

"Yeah?" He responded gently.

"Get some rest, baby." Jean tried to provide his best smile as he then turned on his heels and headed down to the lobby. While it was true he didn't want to leave Marco it might be nice to get out and see some of Italy. This place was Marco's home and he wanted to see it in the same light Marco did. Getting the chance to see Marco's home was a little thrilling as well, almost as if he were a child going to an unknown playground. There were many things he wanted to see and places he wanted to go. He was a bit curious as to how Marco lived so the moment he was met by Michael he quickly slid into the backseat of the car and they headed towards the estate.

The drive back was relaxing as he casually made conversation with Michael. Learning about Marco when he was smaller was pretty interesting and a bit sad. Marco had never gotten to really have a childhood but then again Jean hadn't either. Jean was rebelling about his own abusive environment while Marco was assisting his mother with his own care by resorting to the seedy underbelly of Naples. Clearly they each had their own reasons for not being able to enjoy their childhood but if Jean had anything to say about it he'd be damn sure that they would enjoy their adulthood.

Soon enough they pulled into the drive and Jean played his part of Marco's lover and awaited Michael to open the door for him. Escorting him into the home, Michael stuck close by Jean's side and led him to Marco's office. He was led through a couple long corridors before coming to a door at the end of a L-shaped hall. Once he stepped through the door his mouth gaped. In a way he hadn't expected such grandeur from a simple office but then again in a way he had. The walls were lined floor to ceiling in bookshelves and portraits hung along the walls along with various paintings.

HueVue wasn't needed to see the expensive desk in front of him was made of a refined teak wood and stained to perfection. His fingers traced the decorative inlay as he moved to take a seat in Marco's chair. Of course there would be a high backed chair to pair with the desk. Marco had exquisite tastes and all that was backed up as he opened the drawer Marco had told him to. His eyes widened as saw the item that Marco was sending him to collect and use for himself. 3/4ths of this? Jean's fingers curled around the band of Euros and lifted them to the desk. There had to be at least £10,000 in just the stack in his hand and he was expected to take this??! This was only, maybe, half of what was in the drawer.

Michael approached from his left "Ah, yes, I was instructed to tell you that Marco instructs you take all of it and fund a wardrobe during your stay as well as buying new luggage and whatever else you needed that you lost while in Paris."

"I--Do you _know_ how much money is here?! I can't just take this and I-"

"This is nothing much, Mr. Kirschtein. Please take it and do as suggested by The Young Master. This is an extension of your place at his side so please consider the station you now hold. You should hold yourself in the same honor, with the same amount of pride, that Marco will have to hold himself to." Jean wasn't sure how to feel hearing those words but he had to consider it. If he wasn't doing what he should be at Marco's side as his lover how could he expect the men who followed Marco to see him? Marco didn't want this position but he'd been forced into it and he wanted to make sure that no matter what things would go well. He'd help in anyway that he could. Jean was going to try to be the person Marco deserved and needed at his side: listening to him and swallowing his pride a bit by accepting his help was step one.

"Very well. Marco told me to tell you to take me to the usual places but first I need to change. Could you lead me to Marco's bedroom?" Jean replied carefully.

Michael inclined his head lowly "Of course. I suggest you begin referring to it as _your_ bedroom as well unless you'd prefer to stay to in a different bedroom."

A rosy hue crept into his skin as he responded quickly "Yes, of course, that's true. Thank you." There was a sly grin on Michael's face as he led Jean back the way they had come before leading him up a spiral staircase. Glancing around Jean's eyes moved from one area to the next trying to ascertain where it was that they were going. At the end of the left side of the hall Michael opened the bedroom door and stood in the door frame. Walking through the door Jean scanned the room thoroughly before he noticed that Michael wasn't stepping past the threshold.

"I will await you when you are ready, sir." He folded a hand over his chest in a bow then shut the door and left Jean to his own devices. It was a bit strange but he supposed that it was out of respect that he wouldn't enter Marco's, and he supposed now his, room. The room was far larger than he expected it be, honestly, even his father's estate had no room as large as Marco's bedroom. Extravagant was not the word to use when it came to the room but he found it suited him rather strangely. Removing his phone he took a few photos of the room as he surveyed it.

His bed was a mindblowingly gorgeous four poster canopy bed with an upholstered and marbled headboard and matching bedspread. Gold, silver, and black seemed to seemed to be the color scheme of the room, as the armoire was glass and black marble with silver and gold etching around the glass. All pieces of furniture matched, from the vanity to the dressers and nightstands, to the trunk at the foot of the bed and even the counter tops in the attached bathroom. Marco's room was beautiful.....a beautiful room for a beautiful man. He couldn't resist brushing aside the curtains next to the bed to step out onto the terrace. To say the view was breathtaking was an understatement but after a moment he decided to head back inside and finish exploring. This room had been made for a king so the next discovery shouldn't have been a surprise.

Approaching the closet, Jean pulled back the double doors and lights flickered on illuminating the spacious walk-in closet. Suits of various colors were lined along the walls along with anything and everything else that Jean could have imagined. Sure, growing up he'd practically been raised in a wealthy family but even this was enough to shock him. He had no idea who on earth needed so many articles of clothing. Ties, cufflinks, eyepatches, belts, watches, even hoops for the piercings in his ears all had their own sections in the closet and he was beginning to understand how Marco dressed so well.

Deciding to bypass the idea of how much money was in the room he was standing in Jean began searching around for something to wear that might fit him. Marco's chest was broader than his and he was a size larger at the hips but over all they weren't too far off in size. Eventually he found a suit just slim enough to be of a suitable spacious amount. Maroon had never been much his color but he decided to go for it as he selected a black dress shirt and a pair of black leather suspenders to pair with it. With his attire chosen he headed off to the bathroom where he was more than a bit confused. He didn't want to call Michael for something he assumed he could just figure out.

Thankfully there was a linen closet with towels just beside the shower so that was one problem solved. A glass shower stall with a sliding door taking up the entire left side of the bathroom wasn't something he was familiar with. He felt like he was attempting at solving a jigsaw puzzle after several minutes of adjusting the singular handle. Finally, he managed to work the shower and allow the water to heat. While disrobing he did note how his skin was horridly stained rust and the sutures on his leg had been rather crudely covered. He needed to avoid direct water contact so he opted to stand at an angle to do just that but with the shower head directly over him it was much more difficult. Over all he'd stayed in the shower for about twenty minutes before deciding to get out and groom appropriately. Hair styled and dried, properly dressed, and ready to begin the day Jean made his way back to the door to find Michael waiting patiently.

"Are you ready, sir?" He charmingly smiled towards him as he spoke.

Jean nodded "I am. I believe there are many plans in store for me today so we may as well get started. Thank you for waiting."

"It is my job there is no need for thanks. If that is all the business you have to conclude while here we will head off." Michael bowed and began to walk off leaving Jean to follow behind him quickly. He didn't exactly know where he was going or what he was going to be doing aside from buying clothes, but whatever it was sounded good to him as long as he was in Italy and Marco was okay. After a few moments of a mainly silent car ride Michael was bringing him into the city. Jean's eyes moved from one street side to the next trying to take in the stunning Italian architecture. Everything was so beautiful. Old buildings still alight with tourists and local business all the same complimenting the cobblestone paths and bright, cloud filled sky.

The sight before him looked like something out of a movie. Hustle and bustle was in full swing and little bars and vendor shops along the sides of the road seemed to be having their morning rushes. He couldn't wait to get out and walk and explore. Italy was insanely gorgeous and he wanted to experience it firsthand. From sating his desire for morning coffee, to eating lunch at a nice place, to shopping in a piazza, and walking everywhere. It was decided in his head then that he should get out and walk and do things for himself....at least, most things anyhow as he'd still need a translator.

"Michael, would you mind if we walked for the day?" Jean asked from the back seat.

"If that is what you would prefer I will park at the tailor's and we can walk wherever you wish. You would prefer to see the city yourself, no?" Looking back in the rearview mirror he caught Jean's eyes.

Jean nodded "I would yes. I appreciate it, thank you very much, Michael."

"As you wish, sir." His words made Jean flush a bit. He still wasn't used to being called sir at almost every sentence. It was almost like being addressed by a title here and he felt a bit strange. Whatever he was addressed by, so long as it was respectful, he didn't honestly care. Several minutes passed and Michael was parking the car and moving around to open his door for him. Jean turned his head over his shoulder as he exited the car. Marco's tailor didn't exactly look so impressive upon first glance. It was a small two story shop on a side street of Florence with a banner over the door stating "Liverano & Bianche." He was a slight bit skeptical of the shop but nonetheless walked across the street and into the small shop.

How wrong could one be? In Jean's case: extremely. The shop's first floor was all hardwood flooring and elaborate lit displays of various suit pieces and accessories. Jean's eyes gleamed as he moved from one section of the store to another. Michael had disappeared from his side as he approached the desk by the entrance while Jean was busy perusing the available suits. He quickly removed his phone and snapped photos of various displays to see what exactly was being shown. It was times like this he always hated clothes shopping since knowing the colors was always important. While he was busy surveying the available suits and various other items Michael had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder managing to make him drop his phone.

" _Shit!_ " Jean cursed and quickly went to grab his phone from the floor.

When he looked up there was a short balding man in a suit wielding a pincushion and a tape measure "A Mr. Kirschtein, yes?"

Relieved for another person who could speak decent English he stammered to straighten himself "I, oh, uh, yes. That's me."

Michael gave him a soft, reassuring smile "It's alright. This Giancarlo Bianche and he's one of the owners and tailors here. He will be assisting you today."

"It will be my pleasure. If you would please walk over with me to the measuring area so we can assist you in picking suits and having some made for you by days end." The man outstretched a hand towards Jean as he gestured with nod towards the other end of the store. Unsure as he led the way, Jean cautiously took in his surroundings and walked straight until he made it into a spotlighted working area. He was a bit taken aback by how quickly the man began working. Jean soon found himself standing in the center of the area with his jacket off while his inseam was being measured.

Giancarlo looked up to him "I have heard from Michaelangelo that Mr. Bodt has sent you to me."

Jean straightened his spine as he adjusted his posture correctly "Yes, he did. He suggested that I visit you to replace the suits I lost while in Paris."

"And Mr. Bodt has been hospitalized, correct?" As Giancarlo spoke it was clear that this man knew more than the average detail about Marco.

"Giancarlo has been making suits for The Young Master since he was 15 years old, Jean. You may speak freely here as you'll find the only people in the store are standing in this spot." Michael informed him factually.

With feeling a little safer about his knowledge Jean nodded "I see. Yes, he's in the hospital for a gunshot wound to his collarbone. Knowing Marco when he was that young and rebellious must have been a _chore_."

"Ah, please send him my best regards then if you would. He was certainly an interesting child but when it came to others he has always been respectful and conducted himself well. He always carried with an air of dignity and honor. Marco was a very well behaved teenager especially given his title." Jean felt it a bit odd to be holding such a conversation when a man's hands, who were not Marco's, were running along the inseam of his pants but tried his best to manage.

Clearing his throat, Jean tried to keep his gaze straight ahead "Are you sure we're both speaking of _Marco Bodt?_ 6'3", tanned skin, cute little freckled face, chocolate eyes, light scar on his right cheek?"

"Head of Martello family? Yes. The very same though I do not believe he would let _many_ get away with referring to him as having _"a cute, little freckled face._ "

"Jean gets away with much more than that I would venture Giancarlo. Mr. Kirschtein is his lover."  
  
Hearing it be phrased in such a manner that sounded purely physical Jean found the need to rephrase "I'm Marco's _boyfriend_ yes. I get away with lots of things such as calling him a stupid oaf when he goes and gets himself shot for me."

Giancarlo looked up to meet his gaze "I see. It is no wonder he wished to entrust you with me and me alone. You see he called me before you arrived and instructed me to clear the shop for a _special_ guest he was sending."

He couldn't help but shake his head "That idiot. I appreciate the care as I'm a bit nervous being in a foreign country where I can't speak the language."

"Nothing to worry of here I speak with many international clients. I see now that you're wearing Marco's clothing so hopefully we can get something more _tailored_ for you."

"Did you just make a tailoring joke? I see why Marco likes you. Is it so easy to tell I'm wearing his clothing?"

"Maybe only to me. There are slight differences. For instance your arms are just 14cm shorter than Marco's though you have a longer abdomen by almost 21cm."

"You have his measurements _memorized_?"

"I've been making suits for Mr. Bodt for a _very_ long time," he finished his measurements and began scrawling everything down "he orders several every year from me though I'm not sure what he does with them all."

Jean groaned "I have an idea. Is there a place where I can try on some things?"

"Of course, but first," he paused and brought several patterns of fabric to Jean "which of these would you prefer your first suit to be made of?"

"Uhm, well, they all look the same to me so it doesn't really matter," Jean replied, scratching the back of his neck as he removed his phone ready to have to read about the difference in shades.

Giancarlo chuckled a deep, hearty chortle "Ahahaha, I've been informed of your predicament. Such a same for a young man such as yourself to be devoid of color. Each of these are a shade of black but the materials feel a bit different."

Jean ran his fingers over the swatches of fabric carefully considering which would be best "Hmmm, I like this one. Thank you."

"Certainly. Michael can lead you around the store while I work and simply come to the front counter when you are prepared to leave." Jean gave a nod of his head as Michael began to lead him to various rooms. There were so many areas that Jean began to lose track of which ways they had turned to end up in the new area. Deciding first it would be best to peruse blazers Jean began searching through various colors and selecting a few that were in his size. After trying on several he liked he determined to place them back on the rack until he found one he'd absolutely loved. Spending Marco's money was still a bit uncomfortable to him so he'd only buy the suit he'd walk out in and the one that being currently made for him.

Michaelangelo's eyes had never left, nor forgotten, which selections Jean had made as they shuffled through the store. Myriads of vests, ties, slacks, shoes, even a couple sets of cuflinks took several hours to try on before he selected his outfit. He'd been meticulous in choosing his attire and by no means was it going to run him anything cheap he was spending a little over £1,400 on one suit. The fact Marco had wanted him to buy more was astounding. Just how much had he wanted him to bring? No matter, he'd decided that one was enough and spending god only knew how much on his suit to be created was something else entirely.

With his selections in hand Jean approached the counter and paid cash for his things. After a moment he slid into the dark, slate grey suit, suspenders, belt, white undershirt, and grey tie then slid Marco's clothing back into the suit bag he'd been given. He felt rather dashing if he had to admit to himself. Michael spoke to Giancarlo before they headed out and Jean was informed they'd head back at the end of the day but for now it was lunch time and they should get their walking done. Jean ultimately agreed and left his clothing in the backseat of the vehicle before heading off to explore the streets of Florence.

Lunch had been amazing though he was a bit surprised. The wait was longer than expected but he'd learned that meals were events to be planned around and not something eaten on the go or during a trip from point A to B. It certainly explained Marco sitting down at the same time every single day to eat and take his time. Though he'd not been home for a while it seemed that tradition so deeply rooted had stuck with him; Camilla would have probably enjoyed that nugget of knowledge. By the time he'd been able to finish his lunch and pay it was time to get back to the streets and look at Marco's list.

Marco had given him the list of things he was supposed to get for him digitally. One of his eyepatches wasn't such a hard thing but most of the other things on the list weren't things that he could currently have in the hospital. A bottle of vintage cabernet and pinot noir, whiskey bon-bons, cigars, his cigarettes...the more he kept reading the more he wanted to smack the freckles off him. There was no way he'd be expected to bring that back to the hospital....Marco hadn't been serious right? Even if he had Jean had settled on only decided to buy his truffle and to bring him dinner and an eyepatch.

Upon walking all the streets and examining vendors Jean bought himself a cardigan, a pair or two of jeans, a nice v-neck, a scarf, and even found Marco's candies. It would have been a shame to not indulge his sweet tooth while there so he even got a treat for both he and Michael as a thanks. The man had readily accepted and popped the truffle into his mouth with a thankful grin. Although he knew he couldn't have them now Jean did decided to procure the rest of the items on the list in preparation for when Marco would be allowed to leave the hospital and return to the estate.

While out walking simply taking in the various sights Michelangelo turned to Jean "Jean...there is something I would like to ask of you in regards to Marco. Would you kindly hear me out?"

Stopping in his tracks along the small bridge Jean looked out over the water and nodded "Sure. Anything. What is it?"

"You see....there is talks amongst the other dons, the bosses or heads, of the other families. With Marco incapacitated he will no longer be able to act as an assassin no matter how he wishes. It is because of that and of Nero's passing that we believe Marco needs to take his rightful place in uniting the families of northern and southern Italy. For a _long_ time we've all been at odds with one another and Marco is the _only_ one who has blood of both and can rightfully become head of the entire organization. He will.....not listen to anyone on this matter however. He's refused since he's known of his birthright for it was why he was born. It is his duty to combine the organization under one rule. I think he may _only_ listen to you, Jean." When Michael finished Jean tried to accept the weight of his words. Jean was supposed to try to convince Marco into taking the position he was so very against? How was he supposed to go about that anyhow?

Placing his arms atop the banister of the bridge Jean laid his head against them "And what if he **doesn't** listen to me? Why is it so _important_ and why does it matter that he does do this? As far as I know Marco doesn't _want_ this. He feels forced into it and that is the exact opposite of what you want in a leader. While I believe Marco is a fantastic leader and his qualities are endless he will not do well with being pressured."

"I understand that you know him this well. Marco taking hold of his birthright will give him the structure he will need. Without his abilities he learnt as a child he will feel _useless._ He is a man of action and cannot sit idly by while others act and he has been that way since I've been attending him from 15 years of age. Marco will need this whether he knows it or not. He'll be doing his father's wished action true but this is for the betterment of his own organization. I personally know that Ace will not leave him and turn his back on him but neither can he use him. At least with his place among us he can still be of great use to him. Marco will be the **best** person to pull Italy together and imagine just how _well_ he could do. He could regulate any and all crime. Hell, he could even change the rules and have whoever take over in his stead if he truly can get better. With you even at his side he could be amazing, Jean." Michael approached his side placing a hand gingerly against his shoulder.

Jean had to try to soak in the implications of his words "So....Marco won't be able to be an assassin anymore and you think he'd go raving mad without something constructive to do? I can understand that but that means he'd have to stay in Italy and I'd not be able to see him unless I flew out here _often._ I don't know really about all that. I want him to do what is best for **him** which may not be what's best for Italy. I don't know....I just...I don't care as long as he's happy, you know? I will promise you that I will at least convince him to consider it but I can't do more than that. Ultimately he must reach that decision _himself_."

Nodding his head Michael accepted Jean's choice as they turned back to the road "You are very good to and for Marco indeed. I've never met someone that I personally approved of being with him until now. Placing his own happiness above all else is key and I thank you for thinking this way. His ranking in the organization is quite important and for us to continue at the rate we are going it is crucial for him to claim what is rightfully only his. Thank you for listening to me, Jean. I believe it is time that we begin getting back to Giancarlo. He will be closing soon."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, welcome! So, there are a few translations you'll need below. While I wanted Marco and Camilla to have a little argument I also wanted you to know what it was so I posted it below so you can have a little insight as to how much Camilla is already taken with Jean. -because he's a sweet, sassy, stubborn baby- I hope you'll all enjoy the chapter and the taste of where Marco gets his sass.
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠
> 
>  
> 
> Translations:  
> Cazzo - Fuck (in this instance)  
> Marco Darien Bodt. Come ti permetti di trattarlo così! Digli che può restare fino a quando vorrà - Marco Darien Bodt. How dare you treat him like that! Tell him he can stay as long as he wants.  
> Jean, sei il benvenuto qui fino a quando lo vorrai, pertanto ignora quest'ingrato di mio figlio e vai a casa a riposarti per la notte. Puoi tornare in mattinata così possiamo fare colazione insieme. Conosco un ottimo bar, ragazzo mio - Jean, you're welcome here as long as you'd like so ignore my ungrateful son and go home and rest well for the night. You can return as early as you'd like and we'll go have breakfast together. I know a nice bar, my son.
> 
> Ma', lui ha bisogno di andare a casa per lavorare e studiare! Ha altre cose a cui pensare oltre a me. Non incoraggiarlo - Mom, he needs to go home to work and study! He has other things to worry about aside from me. Do not encourage him.
> 
> Cosa ti ho appena detto?! È preoccupato per te e se quello è ciò che lui vuole fare, allora lascialo stare. È il tuo ragazzo, no? Allora trattalo con più rispetto, rispettando anche le sue scelte. Tu non puoi decidere quanto importante sei per lui. Ti ho cresciuto meglio di così. Digli che cosa ti ho detto, immediatamente - What did I just tell you?! He is worried about you and that is what he wants to do so let him. He is your lover is he not? Then you treat that boy with more respect for his own choices. You do not get to decide how important you are to him. You were raised better than this. Tell him what I just said now.

Once physically drained the two made it back to Giancarlo's place who was beginning to close down the shop. Jean had marveled at the suit he'd created. Black with a darker black pinstripe and made of the softest material with a silken interior. He'd never once owned a suit so well made, not even his brand name designer suits were made so elegantly. Michelangelo told Jean to take it to the car while he spoke with Giancarlo so Jean thanked him, paid him, and headed outside. Something felt wrong about that to Jean, something felt off, but whatever it was probably had something to do with the business and he wasn't sure he should be butting into that....yet. He allowed the conversation to continue and while he placed his suit gingerly into the car he decided he would simply wait for him inside the car.

Michelangelo was back placing several bags inside the trunk and in the passenger seat. Jean arched a brow as he looked toward the mirror when he received a wink that made him cringe. What in the world was this? He knew it was time to get back to the hospital and grab something to take to Marco on the way up. Marco had asked for dinner but he hadn't specified and that was his downfall. The last thing Jean was going to do was disregard hospital rules and bring outside food for Marco. As they got back to the hospital Michael opened his door yet refused to escort him up to the room.

"I'll return later this evening. Give my regards and do enjoy the evening. I'll have your things placed in your room," Michelangelo bowed to him as he spoke and left Jean to his own as he grabbed a bag and headed up to Marco's room. Arriving up to the room he discovered that the lights were dimmed and the curtains were drawn. Camilla was waiting outside the room meaning something was probably going on inside the room as there was no reason she would leave otherwise. The moment she saw Jean she quickly wrapped her arms around him and kissed his forehead. Strangely enough he found it comforting and returned the favor, embracing her slender figure gently. Releasing her Jean decided that no matter what was going on he was going to see.

Pushing open the door he knocked slightly "Marco??"

"Yeah, baby just a sec," Marco responded to him but was quickly speaking to someone else in the room. "It's alright, Jean, shut the door and slide the curtain back." Doing as he was told Jean sat the bag in his normal chair and slid the curtain back from around the bed. There was a nurse wiping down Marco's skin as she changed his bandages and another holding a bag of what Jean assumed to be Marco's belongings. His eyes roamed over the expanse of Marco's skin down his broad chest and muscled core watching as water drops fell.

Jean shook his head to clear away rapidly assaulting thoughts "Uh, yeah, sorry. I can leave if--"

"It's fine, Jean, though truth be told I'd rather it be _you_ scrubbing me down. I just came back from a scan and I'm gonna need your help to get my piercings back in," Marco waggled an eyebrow as Jean grinned.

"Oh, can't get the nurse to help you? Tell your nurse I can take those off her hands." Marco complied and Jean took hold of his things and searched through the bag to find a selection of metal barbells in a small clear bag.

Marco dismissed his nurses suggesting to tell his mother to wait a moment before entering again "Hmm. You know I could have asked but I don't think she would agree. No one wants to touch me, haven't you noticed?"

With a sly smirk Jean inched closer to the bed removing the curved barbell for his nape first "Mhmm, I have noticed. _I've_ even been getting the strange stares. Your tailor seemed like a nice man though."

"So you did go," Marco hummed as he lowered his head to allow Jean to slide the metal through his nape "Giancarlo is a good man and a fantastic tailor."

It felt strange sliding the piercing through someone elses skin but he was gentle as he screwed on the ends "He really is. I really like his style."

"I do as well," looking up from the bed he grabbed Jean's hand "can you manage the others or should I do it myself? I do have _one_ good hand."

Jean rolled his eyes "I'm more worried about you setting your heart monitor off, hmm?" He grinned as he tossed back the blankets from Marco's hips. Pouring the metal bars into his palm he decided to have a little fun. Ghosting a hand up his thigh, he brushed his fingertips over Marco's cock as he made a fierce eye contact. Following the rules of the ladder he began with the smallest gauge bar and carefully slid it through his skin. Watching Marco clench his jaw beneath his touch was nice, teasing him was proving to be a little fun for the day. He continued at an agonizingly slow rate letting his fingers glide along his skin.

Marco shifted in his place as he kept his gaze locked to Jean "Enjoying yourself?"

"Are you? Rhetorical question," after screwing on the ends to the final bar Jean let his fingers curl around Marco's shaft giving him a slow stroke "I _know_ you are. Too bad your mom is outside and those monitors are keeping your vitals."

Biting his cheek Marco narrowed his eyes at him "This is _torture_. Why are you like this? I can send my mother off to get my dinner and I can detach these monitors. You might just be exactly what I need."

Jean tightened his grip and shrugged "I guess being in this organization gave me a penchant for tortuous activities so you basically did this to yourself. I don't think Camilla would appreciate you sending her away so your boyfriend could get you off."

"How would you know? I'm sure me being happy is something she would want besides don't you want to enjoy ourselves a bit?" Marco reached his right hand out to Jean's cheek thumbing over it softly. Maybe he could get something out of this too. It wouldn't be _entirely_ wrong would it?? Yes, yes it would but he didn't honestly care so long as Marco was happy and it wouldn't negatively affect his health. With a sigh he climbed off the bed and moved to exit the room so he could speak with Camilla. Forgetting to bring dinner up was a good move apparently.

"Marco asked me if you would go downstairs and bring him dinner. I would, ummm, _take your time_ ," Jean said, his face heating at the thought. Camilla gave him a knowing grin and nodded as she sauntered off down the hallway. When Jean heard the tell tale sign of her heels fading out he slipped back into the room catching the tail end of Marco pressing a nurse call button. By the tone of his voice he could tell that whatever he was saying had been an order. Kicking off his shoes, Jean loosened his tie and tossed his blazer to the chair beside the bed as he climbed onto Marco's bed.

"God, I'm sorry, Jean. I wish I could have protec--" Marco began but Jean quickly interrupted him with a sweet kiss.

Looking down at him, silver eye shining as brightly as his tattoos, Jean placed his hands on his cheeks "You are everything to me and there is no need to think like that. I don't care that I got hurt. It was nothing. You were dangerously close to fatally injured and that's _my_ fault."

"You tried to protect me Jean. You shouldn't have been there but that's _our_ fault for putting you in the situation. I knew better, hell, we _all_ did yet we still allowed it. It's not your fault but ours."

"That doesn't matter. All I care about is that you're okay. I spent hours driving myself insane wondering what was going to happen because no one would operate on you. I was so scared something was going to happen."

"Who I am....hinders things like this. These people had to be paid to keep quiet and to operate on me. I told you this is a burden and it's not my first tussle with a bullet nor will it be my last."

"I'll scream at any doctor, pay off anyone, do whatever I have to as long as I can make sure you're going to be _okay._ I'm never leaving so get used to it."

Lifting his head Marco pressed his forehead to Jean's and smiled "I wouldn't have it any other way." Marco kissed him deeply and let his hand fall down his chest to stop at his belt. Feeling just the pressure of Marco's hand over his still clothed skin was already enough to have him bend to his will. Jean moved away, pressed his lips to Marco's neck leaving soft nips and kisses trailing down to his chest. He didn't want to leave any heavy marks for evidence but it was hard to resist wanting to see the proof of himself mapped across Marco's flesh. As he continued he reached down to secure a hand around Marco's length stroking him slowly until fully erect.

Marco was biting his lip to keep his strangled moans as quiet as possible " _Cazzo._ " That soft moan, of something he'd likely bet was a curse, sent a shiver down his spine. Jean continued his actions as he let himself lose himself in just the tiny actions Marco was making: hips rocking up into his action, perfect white teeth teeth secured over his lip, fingertips digging into his side, and his shaking breaths. Within minutes Marco was a mess writhing in place as he focused on keeping down his noises. It struck Jean that Marco had to have been severely pent up if just something this simple was driving him wild this quickly.

Jean grinned and moved to whisper against his throat "You're so sensitive today aren't you, Marco? It's not been that long ago we had sex could you not compose yourself?" To put a quick end to the actions he slid down his body pressing a kiss to his navel and ran his tongue down along his hip. He bit and scratched at his hips as he made his way down to Marco's cock to replace his hand with his mouth. A sudden moan escaped Marco's throat as Jean gave no warning before swallowing up the entirety of Marco's length. Marco's fingers knotted into Jean's hair as intense pleasure washed over him while Jean busied himself taking his length repeatedly.

It hadn't taken too long of Jean swirling his pierced tongue over Marco's length, dragging the ball of his piercings over the head, to reduce him to incoherence. Marco's toes were curling as his thighs began to tremble and his fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair. During the buck of Marco's hips Jean hummed around him and Marco twisted his fingers, yanking the silken strands of his hair.

 _"Jean, I'm-- I'm gonna,"_ his strangled voice rasped out the barest of warnings as his orgasm shook his body. Jean pushed Marco through his climax swallowing the tepid emission that clung to his throat. Marco's chest heaved as he tried to regain to his breath while Jean wiped at his lip clearing away any trace of cum from his lips. Watching the display made Marco immediately drag him to him for a kiss. Tasting himself was no problem. It was more like a secured victory to know that Jean was his having just demonstrated his desire.

"That was fast," Jean grinned as he pulled back from him.

Marco huffed as he tried to catch his breath **"Ass.** I've been thinking about wanting you all day. How about I help _you_ out?"

"I think I'll pass respectfully. You only have use of one hand and you need to rest to let your heart rate go down. I'll think of you though." Jean pressed a kiss to his temple as he moved to climb off the bed.

"Fine but you could do it here, you know," Marco grinned at him wickedly as he grabbed his wrist "I might actually _like_ that."

Arching a brow Jean tilted his head "You want to watch me jerk off?"

"Why not?"

"I'll make a mess."

"I don't care. I clean up easily. Show me how you do it yourself, when you think of me and when I'm not there. Did you get off to me before I fucked you? Had you imagined how good my dick would feel inside you?" Marco kept speaking, his words growing continuously filthier as he continued to spur Jean into the action. It couldn't hurt could it? Surely not. Shimmying out of his slacks he took a seat in Marco's lap as he leaned forward and kissed him softly. Marco's tongue slipped past his lips stealing his breath as Marco tried to drag him harder into his chest with a hand at the back of his neck. Trying his best to sit up Marco elevated the bed to make it easier for him to mouth at Jean's throat while Jean slipped his boxers down on his hips.

He gave a thankful groan as he released his erection from the stifling fabric confines. His fingers coiled around his own cock stroking himself slowly as Marco pulled the skin of his throat between his teeth. Jean tried his hardest to keep down his moans but it was much harder than he anticipated with Marco acting the way he was. It was like he was jealous in a way, that he wasn't touching him, that Jean had decided to get himself off rather than allow Marco to help him. The way he was acting pushing against him harder and teasing him was his giveaway. As he rocked his hips and Marco set fire to his veins with the heat from his lips sinking into his skin he began hastening his actions. Marco hummed against his skin making tiny moans and groans to spur on Jean.

 _"Mmmm, oohhh god~~,"_ he moaned as his head lulled back "bite me."

"Whatever you want, baby, just say my name. Let me hear it," Marco growled as he pinched the skin of his collarbone in his teeth.

The moment the sharp pain registered in his mind Jean gasped _"Hah, Marcooo!~~"_ Jean's hand around his length stopped moving as he tried to bury his face in Marco's shoulder to keep from making another sound. Seeing it as a moment to give a helping hand Marco curled his fingers around Jean's cock thumbing the head gingerly as he nuzzled against Jean's neck. Light gasps of air sounded from Jean's lips as his breath hitched in his throat and Marco urged him to apex. His vision clouded and the feeling of knowing it was Marco that was getting him off was far better than the thought of himself doing it.

 _"Jeannn,"_ Marco purred against his ear "why don't you come for me, baby?" Marco's words wracked him to the core as that sweet mouth uttered such filthy directives. His pace quickened as he was bringing Jean to the brink pushing him past it in a matter of minutes. As he achieved his orgasm, he spilled over Marco's hand and onto his stomach with a bite into his shoulder to quell the arduous moan threatening to rip past his lips. Being with Marco was fantastic no matter the way and he'd love to enjoy his afterglow but he needed to clean this mess up before Camilla entered the room.

Still trying to gain his breath he pressed his lips to Marco's grinning through the kiss "You're amazing, Marco."

"I know it and so are you," he chuckled as Jean then tore himself away and grabbed a dampened hand towel from the bathroom to wipe off Marco's stomach and hand. Afterwards he stepped into the bathroom and cleaned a bit more thoroughly. Marco spoke openly in Italian as the door opened and Jean quickly finished up to head out to see who had arrived. Much to Jean's surprise it was a nurse coming back in to re-attach his heart monitor's clips followed quickly by Camilla with a tray for him. The nurse caught his mother's eyes and scampered out the moment their gazes connected. It was painfully obvious that even Camilla herself held some esteem in the reputation department.

Marco thanked his mother and she spoke something to him causing him to groan. He wasn't exactly sure of what had been said though the moment she began digging in her handbag to withdraw foundation and concealer he knew. She looked to Jean with a knowing grin and began dabbing at the places on Marco's skin that Jean had accidentally discolored. It felt like he was being erased from Marco like his presence couldn't be known but Marco caught his glance and shook his head. Almost as if he could read his mind, or maybe it was his face he was reading, Marco raised a hand to his mother and more than likely asked her to stop as she did.

"She's doing it because someone rather important is coming to see me and she doesn't want me showing off hickies. Those were her words not mine." Marco stated calmly before allowing her to continue. After several minutes of Marco stomaching his hospital food and complaining to his mother, Camilla finally finished covering only the visible marks above his collarbones. She'd left the rest alone and laughed as she watched Jean turn fuchsia when she turned to leave the room.

Jean took his seat beside the bed "So.....who's coming by exactly?"

"A big fat pig who blows the fucking pastry cart every time his ass gets near one." Marco chuckled and suddenly when a large man appeared in the doorway fist poised to knock on the door. It didn't take HueVue to know that the man was in some kind of ostentatious suit. The color was bright and Jean would have sworn that maybe the man was colorblind too because there was no way a normal person would go out in such an awful suit.

The man sucked his teeth and roamed his eyes over Marco "Tsk tsk, and you blow just about every soldier ya got, don't ya Martello? What is it that we are going to be doing with you, Marco? I told you that you play those assassin games and you just continued to get hurt."

Marco shifted and tried to sit up as he looked to Jean "Jean, did you bring me that eyepatch?"

"Oh, I think Michael packed one in the bag he brought for you earlier. Let me check." Jean rose and shuffled around to the duffle bag inside the closet and rummaged around until he found one. The way the two of them had spoken to each other made him a little more antsy and uncomfortable but he sufficed that Marco could handle it all himself. Walking over to Marco he decided that perhaps he could put it on for him. It was a simple buckled clasp at the back and leather like always though it was lacking his spade insignia. Seemingly not objecting to the idea Marco allowed Jean to fix the eyepatch over his head appropriately.

"Thank you," he turned to Jean with a smile before returning his attention back to the guest "you may turn the lights on now if you wish. Now, I hear you are wishing to pay your respects to Nero at his funeral. I will allow you and your men to be present; as a matter of fact I would highly welcome it and I appreciate your care Don Lucchese."

As Marco lowered his head slightly the other man bowed as well "Out of the utmost respect fa' you and yours we will certainly be there. I see ya got another new solider or he like tha' last kid I saw ya with. Whass' 'is name again? Eren?"

Eren's name leaving the man's lips gave cause for Jean to tense but Marco lifted a hand as if to stop him from speaking "I thank you for that and wish your company well. Jean is not a new solider nor spade nor Martello though he is connected to both. I would appreciate you keep talks of Eren to a minimum it seems he's in critical condition back in the states and Jean here was a close friend."

Don Lucchese gave a slight inclination of his head towards Jean "My apologies, so what exactly is he, your new right hand?"

"Maybe my new _left_ hand huh, mi amore?" Marco winked at Jean then turned back to the man "Jean is my boyfriend, Simone. He should be addressed with the same respect as you hold for me, understood?"

"Forgive me," the don lowered his head lowly towards Jean "I was unaware of your title. I will inform the families."

Jean waved his hands in front of his chest "Oh no, please, pretend that I'm not here. I'm not important."

"Nonsense. You're the **most** important person in the world to me and you will be respected, honored, and treated as such. Simone I speak with you now as your friend and head of the Martello household and nothing more. It is of my highest wishes that I find someone else to take over my position," Marco spoke softly but he spoke with calculation and Jean could sense what Giancarlo had been speaking of.

Simone took the seat opposite of Jean and took Marco's hand in his own patting it lightly "Now, Marco, my love for you is that of family and this you know. I, however, speak for all families when I say that it is beyond time for you to assume what is yours. We've waited far too long to unite as one whole for the betterment of Italia."

Marco's eye flared with a rage Jean had never seen as he spat venomous words "How **dare** you say that to me! I've said time and time again that this is **not** what is mine. It was never meant to be me and I wish for it not now nor ever! As far as I am concerned the whole of Italy can _rot_. I have my cities and that is hard enough. It is not you that will be held accountable, nor endure--"

Jean got to his feet and placed a hand on Marco's cheek " _Shhh_. You'll disturb the other patients, Marco."

"I don't give--"

 **"Shut up.** Listen to me," Jean said as he met his gaze kissing him softly "many of us are thrust into positions we never wanted. Eren for one example. Me for another. Life doesn't always give the hand of cards we ask for. This opportunity keeps coming back to you. You can't run away from your duty Marco if this is who you were meant to be. Italy is your home and you love this place. Don't you think I would stay by your side, that you could rely on me if things get tough, that I would be there to help and guide you? Marco he's trying to do what he, and apparently others, think what is best. Isn't that what you want too? Don't you think as current head of the organization that they deserve for you to at least hear them out? Maybe get all the information before you ultimately decide?"

The don's eyes widened as he watched Jean speak to Marco and effectively calm him with a matter of a few words "I...thank you."

"Jean. I--" Marco stared back at him about to begin a rant when he was interrupted again.

"What did I just tell you, Marco Bodt? I think Camilla would agree with me. You need to do what you _know_ is right, I know that, but in order for that to happen you need to be completely informed to everyone's motives and reasoning. I know you can do _anything_ you put your mind to, babe. Do you not think Italy would be a better place with you presiding over the organization as a whole? I certainly do," Jean crossed his arms and sat back in his chair.

Marco waited to speak until it was clear Jean wasn't going to interrupt "Jean, you're so _lucky_ that you mean too much to me. I've shot people for much less than speaking to me like that."

"Please, Marco, just think of it. There will be a meeting after Nero's funeral, for all families across Italy, to decide what is to be done. We sincerely hope that you'll send someone in your stead, perhaps, _Jean?"_ Simone suggested.

Jean gave the man a smile "I would think I'm not very well involved in manners of these. It would probably be best left to someone who knows more than I, though I do thank you heavily for the consideration of such an important event."

"Why of course. I think he is good for you Marco, very smart and kind. Please do consider it. I must be going now for a meeting of my own," he rose from the chair kissed the back of Marco's hand and lowered his head to both he and Jean "Arrivederci Capo di tutti i Capi, Jean."

"Arrivederci, Don Lucchese."

"Farewell," Jean responded as the man exited the room.

Marco stared back at him owlishly "I can't _believe_ you thought that was a good idea. What the hell is wrong with you, Jean? You _really_ want me to take over Italy? Do you know what that entails? Do you?"

"No, Marco, I fucking don't. Why don't you tell me and be sure to include why you _really_ don't want to do it." Jean decided to sit on the edge of the bed so he could keep his gaze with Marco.

"If I agree to take the place and unite the families I stand to have to remain in Italy at all times. No contracts. No life of my own path anymore. Doing it will just ensure my father got _exactly_ what he wanted. My life would be nothing but babysitting and sitting on my ass taking responsibility for countless pointless crimes. I would be stuck doing nothing but having meetings and sitting behind a desk most days. I would have to change the structure and more people would rebel. I'd only create more problems for everyone," the tone in Marco's voice had dropped as he finished. His voice no longer carried the irritation it had just seconds ago now it carried a disheartening sorrow. Something else lied underneath but it wasn't something he felt he could pry from Marco now.

Jean sighed and stretched out along the bed beside Marco placing his head on his chest "You _can't_ be an assassin anymore....not like how you used to be unless you clear physical therapy and you have Wolverine's healing factor. Your collarbone was completely shattered. It won't move as well anymore and there's no way you can be as fast as you used to be. I know that. Marco, even if it is just for a little while, if you control everything you can go against the previous rules and make someone, anyone, take over for you if you can go back to the Spades. Levi will always want you at his side. You're family. I saw that in his eyes. I want you to be happy and I want you to do what's best for you no matter what that is. Do I want you to stay in Italy and become a fucking kingpin? Not particularly. No matter what happens, or where life takes your path, I will be there to have your hand and walk it _with_ you. I'll stay here if I have to. I don't care I'll figure something out."

Marco kissed his forehead "Thank you for thinking all of this. I will look into it and weigh my options as you asked of me. I don't know what you're doing to me, maybe I'm getting soft, but you always know what to say to get me to do what you ask. You are truly something else Jean but," his tone lowered and he tossed his arm around his waist "you know you can't stay here. You don't know the language, you have two jobs back home that you can get fired from, and you wanted to finish your degree. I cannot, responsibly, let you do such a thing. Tomorrow I want you to go back to L.A."

Looking up to him, Jean smiled and responded with a simple _"No."_

Bewildered by his quick response Marco's eye fluttered quickly "I...what?"

 **"No.** I told you. I'm staying here," Jean stated flatly, clearly determined.

"Jean," Marco began "you cannot possibly want to throw _everything_ away. What about school? You're just a few months away from graduation. You'd get fired from your jobs and have no good references. You can't work here. You don't speak Italian. Think of how hard your quality of life would be here."

"And I'd have no life at all without _you_ at my side. I'd rather choose you than anything else. I have my tattoo certification on top of my money and I can always sell the estate if I need or want to. I will be just fine," Jean smiled softly before grinning impishly "besides, in your condition you couldn't stop me anyway."

Before Marco could respond Camilla walked in to see the two on curled up beside each other and snapped a photo "Hahaha I, uh, Facebook."

"Oh my god," Jean tried to burry his face farther into Marco's chest "please do not do that, Camilla! Please!"

The woman laughed and Marco said something to her before turning to Jean "It's okay she was just kidding."

Marco kissed his forehead again and Jean shot Camilla a narrowed glare "About earlier, Marco..."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight go back to the estate. My mother wants to stay the night and since you want to keep with hospital rules I'm only allowed one overnight guest." Marco kept his grasp on him though Jean moved back as if to climb off the bed.

A small pout formed across his lips "You want to send me home and back to the estate to sleep in that giant bed, all alone, without you? Marcoooo...."

Camilla frowned and smacked Marco on the back of the head "Marco Darien Bodt. Come ti permetti di trattarlo così! Digli che può restare fino a quando vorrà." She turned her gaze towards Jean, eyes gentle "Jean, sei il benvenuto qui fino a quando lo vorrai, pertanto ignora quest'ingrato di mio figlio e vai a casa a riposarti per la notte. Puoi tornare in mattinata così possiamo fare colazione insieme. Conosco un ottimo bar, ragazzo mio."

"Ma', lui ha bisogno di andare a casa per lavorare e studiare! Ha altre cose a cui pensare oltre a me. Non incoraggiarlo."

"Cosa ti ho appena detto?! È preoccupato per te e se quello è ciò che lui vuole fare, allora lascialo stare. È il tuo ragazzo, no? Allora trattalo con più rispetto, rispettando anche le sue scelte. Tu non puoi decidere quanto importante sei per lui. Ti ho cresciuto meglio di così. Digli che cosa ti ho detto, immediatamente."

Groaning loudly Marco turned to Jean "She said that you're welcome here as long as you'd like so ignore my ungrateful son and go home and rest well for the night. You can return as early as you'd like and we'll go have breakfast together because she knows a good bar. By bar she means...well to you it'd be more like a café basically."

Jean snickered and smiled towards Camilla "Haha, thank you very much. I appreciate that very much and I suppose if you're asking I should listen."

Once Jean tried to roll away Marco shook his head "I'm not letting you get away from me without a kiss. A good one. Ma' close your eyes." She chuckled and turned her back as Marco tugged himself closer to Jean and lifted his chin. Jean let his fingers run through Marco's hair as he met his lips with a somber fire. There was enough passion to be burnt by the sparks yet not enough to strike a blaze. Pushing against him Jean gave no hesitation to parting his lips and deepening the kiss. While he wanted to lose himself in the velvet touch and numbing sensation of Marco's kiss he knew he had to leave.

Jean pulled away from him, kissed him again, and rolled off the bed "Okay, Marco, I'll see you in the morning. Camilla, thank you for everything and I'll see you in the morning as well!"

"Good night Jean. Thank you for getting my things for me," Marco called to Jean as Camilla wrapped him and hug and told him goodnight. As he walked down to the lobby of the hospital he found Michael there awaiting him. After receiving a nod from the sable haired man Jean followed him out to the drive around and slid into the back of the vehicle. Once inside he laid his head against the window and already found himself dozing off to sleep. The gentle bumps of the road jostled him awake as they began to come out to the edge of the city and crossed into the estate property.

He felt strange walking into the home at Michael's side and bidding him farewell as he walked around in the bedroom. Everything felt so wrong. Marco wasn't here. Marco wasn't going to be able to be here. At least at the hospital in that uncomfortable chair and chilled room he'd had the comfort of hearing Marco breathe, feeling his skin against his own, and here he had nothing. Sure it was comfortable in theory with such a plush bed and the warmth of the room but without Marco it might as well have been a stone slab in the center of the arctic.

Tossing and turning; it was near impossible to fall asleep. There was no warmth around him, no steady rhythm to lure him to a restful sleep, no sweet freckled face to wake to. It all seemed so fake; like a mockery his mind had conjured to drive him insane. All he wanted to lay with Marco and for him to be okay but he couldn't have his cake and eat it too. Forcing himself to stop thinking and to focus on falling asleep was possibly the hardest thing he'd had to do all day. Jean soon found himself dozing off but unfortunately for him a relaxing deep sleep had never found him. He'd spend the night waking on the hour, mind frantically seeking out what the one thing he'd craved more than anything: Marco.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helllllooooo! I hope you're up for another round of "Marco is an asshole!" because we get to play that here all the time in STS! In all seriousness though there is a method for his particular brand of madness and I hope you stick around to see what insanity has graced out fiery feline!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠
> 
> Translations:  
> Merde - Shit

Upon awaking for the umpteenth time Jean realized it was probably time for him to get up. Fumbling around he searched for his phone to check the time and reading that it was only a little after 7am. Heaving a sigh he laid back against the pillows. What exactly was he supposed to do for another 2 hours? Marco wanted to send him home today, and he'd told him no, but would he have some way of trying to force him on a plane back home? Refusing to want to admit that Marco was right was the first thought in his mind but the second thought was that he had to agree with him. If their positions were reversed Jean would be telling Marco to go back. He hated that acidic taste that came with admitting when you were wrong.

Laying in bed he let his mind wander a bit. If he could get those things taken care, Marco would have no reason to refuse to him then. Ymir and Christa always seemed to have their ways of getting around things so he thought of calling them. School was his first priority. He could worry about Digital Dreams and the studio later, in fact, he already had a plan for the studio after his leg healed appropriately. First things were first and that was to call Ymir. He didn't exactly know where she was in the world and that might have been a problem with time zones, and that woman was not someone he wanted to incur the wrath of, but he decided to push forward.

After a few dreadful moments the phone was answered with a rather coherent greeting "Yo, what's up?"

"Hey, Ymir, it's Jean. I wanted to thank you and Christa for your help with everything but I might need you again," his tone remained light yet casual as he spoke hoping she would agree.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line before she responded "Haha, oh man. You're welcome. What's wrong now? Did the _'master'_ do something stupid again?"

Unable to hide his own disdain he scoffed "If by stupid you mean try to force me on the next plane out of here? Yeah. I need to find a way to get my jobs settled back home. I want to stay here as long as it takes for that fucking asswipe to recover completely from his injuries but I know that'll take a while."

"You called me at 7am to figure this out? How easy. First of all, Marco is a giant hypocrite when it comes to self-care, you should have expected this. Second, we do owe you a hell of a lot for helping us. Without you we couldn't have gotten the in that we did. Levi is awake this morning, though not exactly happy after his second blood transfusion so I'll let you speak to him if you'd like."

Jean froze, trying to stammer out why that wouldn't be a good idea but it failed when Levi's groggy, rasped voice came over the line "Jean??"

"Yeah?"

"Okay. I'm not exactly very _cognitive_ right now. I will get someone to help arrange a cover for you but it might take about an hour or two. Also, you've been paid for your help and I hear your things are at my sisters. I'll have them sent to Marco's place. Should arrive in a day or two. Anything else you need to have done while you have me here?"

Jean tried stammered "Uh.....I d-don't...." after a moment he figured something "actually, yes there is. _Get better._ Everyone wants you healed up and back as soon as possible."

"Haha, oh I see why Marco likes you Jean. Thank you. I appreciate it and take care of that fucking bitch. He'll need it and keep me informed as to whether or not Marco intends to be successor to his title. Tell him I said he _should_ take it. Ymir will give you my personal line as well as my business line. Enjoy your morning and thank you again for your help."

Ymir was back on the line before he could respond to Levi "I'll text you the numbers, right now, I have a call to make that's gonna help you out. Once everything is completed someone is going to call you with the details. Answer the fucking phone. Give my wishes to Aunt Camilla and to my brother, Michael, and I _guess_.....to Marco. I'll be over there in a few days. Don't do anything stupid by then." With her final words the phone call was ended and Jean was beginning to wonder if saying 'goodbye' was a custom anymore. His mind wasn't completely at ease, in fact, the call had provided more questions than it had solved but at least he had hope of solving his biggest problems of work.

The next issue to tackle was his schooling. He had to google the time difference between Florence and L.A. and he realized that the 9 hour time difference might have made things difficult. Deciding it would be best to email his professors and inform them that he would be absent from class for several days due to his injury. Later he would fax over his medical discharge papers and inform them farther of the situation should the need arise. Anxiety gripped his chest as he decided to get up and move to get ready for the day. Jumping almost out of his skin, Jean snapped his head around to the door as a knock sounded on the hard teak wood.

Opening the door, he was met with Michael's smiling face that did suddenly remind him of Ymir "Good morning, Jean."

Rubbing at his eyes, Jean nodded "Good morning, Michelangelo. Your sister sends her regards this morning."

"Ah, Ymir, yes. Please do tell her the same if you speak to her again. I was coming to wake you but it does appear that you are indeed awake. Please take your time getting ready and if there is anything you need in the mean time please do not hesitate to let me know."

"I will do that. She also said she should be arriving in a few days. Oh, uh, is there a computer here I can use? My laptop should be here in a few days but I need to check on something."

"Hmm, I don't think Marco would be opposed to allowing you access to his own in the study."

Not feeling that was a viable option Jean suddenly shook his head "Oh no, no, that's okay. I'll just wait until mine gets here in a bit. That's all I need though. I should be ready in a bit."

"If you are sure.....you may find me downstairs when you are ready to go to the hospital." Michael lowered his head and shut the door softly behind him as he shuffled away. Jean was pretty sure that the two hours he was supposed to wait for his phone call were going to drag on. He decided to walk to the closet where Michael had more than likely placed his things though it might have been difficult to find his own things among Marco's. At least....that was his first thought. Entering the closet he noticed that the entire right side of the closet had now been moved. There was a vibrant white tag on everything to the right and as Jean reached down to examine it he realized that it was all his size. Everything with a tag was his. All of it. Down to every last tie or shoe string was his on the right side of the walk-in and it was all things that Jean had picked out while at the tailors.

Cursing himself, he then realized that was what Michael had done when he returned. The items in the car had been of the things Jean had liked while he was inside the store. It seemed that Michael had remembered everything that he had once picked up and had returned to buy it. He had to let his anger subside a moment as he thought about how Marco had to have spent on everything in the closet. Marco's actions were confusing. First, he has Michael buy everything he liked in the tailor's shop to build him a wardrobe then he wants to send him home at the first chance he gets? Why in the world would he need a wardrobe if he was just supposed to go home today?

Groaning to himself he removed his phone and began scanning through what outfit he was to don for the day. A navy cardigan tossed over a white button up with a pair of jeans and a pair boots was something simple. He honestly didn't feel like putting on another suit for the day even though the ones at his disposal were immaculate. After dragging his clothing from the closest he headed towards the, still strange, shower. Standing beneath the heavy flow of hot water was nice until he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. Fumbling out of the shower he scurried to the counter and frantically slid his wet finger against the screen.

"H-hello?!" Jean answered quickly.

The voice on the other end was familiar yet he couldn't place it "Haha, I'm sorry. Did I catch you a bad time Mr. Kirschtein?"

"J-Jean is fine. Oh uh, I was in the middle of a shower, but it's fine." Taking a deep breath he exhaled slowly trying to calm himself.

"Alright, well, my name is Zoe Hanji. I'm Eren's boss and I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to meet the other day." Wracking his brain Jean tried to remember. The only person he knew....when the idea finally snapped in his brain he remembered the woman they had looked for was Eren's boss and with him. The woman on the other end of the line had been the woman in glasses holding onto to Mikasa.

"Ooohhh, yes, that's right. _Are you okay?_ Should you even be working given the extent of the injuries you sustained?!" He'd remembered the woman hadn't exactly been in any shape to be on her own but then again, ignoring their pain seemed to run in this organization.

She laughed a sharp chuckle and dismissed him easily "Ahaha! You're _cute,_ honey. I'm gonna be just fine but I still have things to do to prepare for Eren's return. Now, when it comes to what you asked for. I have prepared a nice cover story for both your occupations and your schooling as well. After digging through your emails I can tell you still wished to continue, with that at least, and so you'll be able to do just that. Your classes have been transferred to online classes and I figured you wouldn't want a digitally hacked degree so continue at your pace."

Amazed and a bit shocked Jean gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts before answering "I-I...wow. That's amazing. You're fucking _awesome._ Is everyone is this organization a damn wizard and can I ask what exactly you told Digital Dreams and Entice?"

Hanji giggled "Thanks for the compliments, kiddo. I simply provided some documentation about a certain injury making it a lot worse than it was and then provided some information that stated you'd be unable to continue working due to recovery time and their refusal to release you from the hospital. The owner of Digital Dreams said with both you and Eren gone he'll hire 3 new people but should want your job back at a later time you'll have it and he wishes you well. Stephanie from your, uh, dancing job, haha, sorry, says that it's perfectly okay and she'll take your classes for you. As far they know you have deteriorated muscle tissue throughout your right leg from a flesh eating amoeba you contracted while swimming in a pond while drunk."

His smile faded as he rolled his eyes "Geee, thanks. Can't believe they bought that."

"You're welcome! With proper documentation they'll believe anything plus with your, uh, history, it seemed plausible. Anything else I can do for ya?"

"Uh....can you check to see if Marco bought a plane ticket?"

"Hmmm, let me see," there was a momentary pause filled with the furious striking of keys before she responded "it seems he had a ticket bought last night for 11pm tonight to....Los Angeles. He really _is_ trying to send you home..."

 **"FUCK THAT ASSHOLE!** God! I fucking told him I'm not going home. Is there a way you can have that ticket refunded to him and canceled?"

"Ouch. My eardrum kiddo. I can have it canceled but it won't refund all of it to him. Anything else you want me to do? Freeze his account, give his cell phone herpes, send him a geriatric stripper?"

He had to fight the urge to laugh at her casual mention of 'cellular herpes' "I don't really care, do whatever you think is appropriate. Do you know what time he bought that ticket?"

Typing away Hanji responded with haste "It was little after midnight."

"Wow...so he did it _after_ I told him I wasn't leaving. He thinks he can force me onto a plane tonight. I can't believe him....Hanji, how quickly can you arrange assistance to hide a body?"

Hanji's voice softened "Easy there, kid. Marco is just worried about you, granted he has insulted your decision making, but he still wants what's best for you. I've been around Marco for about 7 years and I can say that he doesn't normally care so much. I don't even think I've seen that boy in a serious relationship. Ever. In 7 years. He just doesn't really know how to act. Beneath his ruthless, bloodthirsty, murderous instinct there is a man who is fucking frightened of being viewed as insignificant, worthless, and inferior. He has a lot of psychological issues and you want to know why Marco doesn't want leadership? There are serious reasons for that. I suggest you do your own digging and figure it out. I've given you all I can. Enjoy your morning and good luck with the freaky, freckled fuck. Give my love. Bye!!" At least she'd said bye. Jean decided to gloss over the fact that she'd decided to read through his emails. Hanji had helped him out a good deal and now he was still just pissed off about Marco.

Almost forgetting he was naked and dripping wet, he sat the phone down and took a step sliding a bit. Once he sat down the phone he got back into the shower and finished up quickly. He'd been rather surprised that it hadn't even taken her an hour to construct such a lie but at least he was free to do his own thing. He would stay even if Marco objected...no, especially, if Marco objected again. Camilla invited him to stay and that was good enough. Surely, the momma's boy inside Marco would obey the wishes of his mother. He hoped anyway. He didn't really want to fight with Marco but he had fucking started this.

Even with the issues Hanji had spoken of, his lack of relationships, and whatever else was swimming in his brain, it didn't excuse his behavior. Marco was old enough to be held accountable for his actions and Jean would see that he did. After getting dressed he slid in his piercings and headed downstairs where he didn't see Michael. He thought it a bit odd so he decided to go looking for him. The house was so large it was easy to get lost but at least he remembered the way to Marco's office. Just as he was raising a fist, about to knock on the door, Michael approached him silently.

Jean almost jumped from his skin but calmed after a second of gaining his composure. Michael simply laughed at him and led the way back to the foyer. The two walked outside and prepared to head off to the hospital where Jean met Camilla outside. She climbed into the car's backseat with Jean sitting beside him and chattering excitedly as she wildly gesticulated. Camilla had hugged him and kissed both his cheeks, even his forehead, when they exited the vehicle. Joining them, Michael decided to act as Camilla's translator and thus enjoyed a nice breakfast with the two of them.

He'd learnt that Marco had argued with several nurses about his care and thus more were scared to be on the same floor as him, scared they'd be assigned to his room. Jean rolled his eyes and informed her that Marco was just an asshole that needed to keep his big, fat mouth shut sometimes. She'd laughed and agreed with him but told Jean that ultimately he was doing it so they'd agree to release him earlier. The sigh Jean had exhaled could have rivaled a hurricane. Marco was already thinking of getting released from the hospital when he literally had a fucking bullet removed from his body. He understood procedure and that if everything was healing up well after about 10 days he'd be released on his own recognizance but really...he couldn't wait 10 goddamn days?!

Camilla patted the back of his hand and smiled gently. She was so warm and caring. It was almost enough to forget his own mother was a bitch and Marco was being an asshole. Almost. The three of them finished up their breakfast and headed to the hospital. On the ride back Camilla tried to set Jean's mind at ease by telling him stories of Marco when he was a little boy. Several of the stories made him smile, it was so clear he'd loved his mother and done everything he could to help her. From random events to bringing her flowers to suddenly bills being paid she hadn't paid herself. Marco was a good son, there was no doubt, but he was still pissed off to the core.

By the time they had arrived Jean walked calmly up to the room and asked that Michael and Camilla let him have a moment alone with Marco. They agreed and Michael suggested she do her shopping and head home to shower and change. If she followed the directive they'd have enough time. He knew this conversation might run the risk of getting pretty heated and didn't want them to have to be involved. Last time Marco had gotten fussed at by his mother and their conversation had ended because of it. Now was the time to have this talk with just the two of them and he didn't give a rat's ass if Marco wanted to or not. Knocking on the door softly, he pushed open the door and took a seat by Marco's bed.

Taking the time, he watched him as he slept. Marco looked so peaceful in his sleep. It always crossed his mind that he didn't seem like anything was weighing him down though he knew better. His hair was falling in his face, it was still a bit wet. Maybe he'd had a bath and he exerted himself though it didn't seem very plausible. Perhaps it was sweat? It was a bit warmer in the room than normal, maybe that was it. As he reached out to place a hand on his cheek Marco grumbled in his sleep. It was kinda cute the way he shifted around yet leaned into his hand. He moved his thumb gently over his jaw and Marco seemed to have relaxed a bit but he didn't want to wake him. Arguing upon first waking seemed a bit harsh.....but he did fucking ask for it.

Half an hour later Jean had drifted off with his hand on Marco's forearm. Hearing his name mumbled gravelly, accented, and heavy with sleep Jean looked up to see Marco staring back at him. That chocolate eye locked to his own and his lips threatened to curve. Instead however, his brows knit and he frowned as he looked back up to Marco. Sitting up he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"Marco," he spoke softly yet bluntly as he called his name.

Blearily he responded with a hum "Hmm?"

"We need to talk," Jean replied curtly.

Dragging himself to sit up Marco groaned " _Merde_...It is too early for this."

"You said we would talk. Don't you want to talk before you try to have me taken to the airport for that flight at 11 tonight?" Jean seethed as he straightened in his chair.

Lifting his hand to his head Marco sighed "How did you know I bought the ticket?"

Jean took a deep breath and began "I had some things fixed and I asked if you'd gone behind my back and completely disregarded my choices. How _dare_ you do that. I told you that I'm not leaving and you need to respect my decisions Marco. Whether you fucking like it or **not**. Stop acting like a child."

Scoffing Marco leaned his head back "You tell me to stop acting like a child when it's you who'd rather throw your life away on some man like a _love-struck teenage girl_. You need to be thinking of what's _best._ I am in the hospital. Think they're gonna let me go anywhere with a gunshot wound? Work and school are too important for you to just throw away to be here when I am not even capable of doing much. My mother will be here as will Michael and anyone else I call."  
  
"Do not even _start_ with me, Marco! I know full well that you intend to be out of here way before they're going to let you go! You're trying to piss them off so they readily agree. And what, what exactly is wrong with me wanting to be here with you?! Do you just not _want_ me here? Is that it? You don't want me to care about you? My choice is my own and, though I understand it, I choose to put you first. I care about you and I want to be here for you, and _**THIS**_ is what I get? _Fuck you, Marco._ Fuck you, you asshole. You can't stop me from staying but I guess, since you want me gone so fucking badly, I will leave." Standing from his chair he pulled out his phone and dialed Michael's number as he opened the door "Goodbye, Marco." As he left he made sure to slam the door. It was for emphasis; that was what he told himself anyhow.

His hands were trembling as he held the phone by his ear. The entire time he'd been rather calm but now the aftermath of his actions was starting to set in. What was he going to do exactly? Stay in that big ass house by himself? There was an entire storyboard that he needed to get done and he needed to digitally raise it. He suddenly wished he had his laptop with him so he could do the last part. Last he checked he was in Italy and had no idea where to find canvasing, copic markers, or any kind of art supplies that he might need.

As the phone call was answered Jean had responded with a curse. When Michael was confused Jean had to apologize and explain the situation to which he sighed. It seemed that Camilla and Michael had sensed this was going to happen when he had asked that they stay behind. Jean felt a bit put on the spot by that answer. It was like they were watching everything he did to tell his emotional status but they hadn't been wrong. He simply agreed and asked for someone to pick him up from the hospital. Michael agreed to come as did Camilla and one of Marco's friends.

The wait seemed endless as he sat in the lobby impatiently. He wanted the hell out of here. It was a lesser known fact that he hated being in hospitals so the moment he saw Michael, Camilla, and a man of about 5'9 with them he'd never been happier. This friend of Marco's seemed to be in a simple suit which mean he was more or less working for Marco. Jean rose from his chair to meet them at the entrance to which the man he didn't know simply walked off to Marco's room while Camilla wrapped her arms around him tightly. Though she was small the woman was rather strong, almost taking his breath as she squeezed him.

She was escorting him to the car as Michael opened the door for them. Camilla wanted the details of what happened and Jean was a bit hesitant to give them. He didn't want her to tell him what he'd done wrong, didn't want her to yell at him and tell him to fix it. Jean wanted to Marco to fix it himself of his own accord. Jean decided to tell her the small things and he could already feel the anger coiling off her skin. Her eyes darkened and she threatened to have Michael turn around so she could go slap Marco but Jean told her that wasn't what he wanted. Deciding then to just tell her everything he'd been thinking she agreed to let him do it his way but informed him that it might take several days.

If several days was what it took then so be it. He'd wait. Before they headed back home Jean asked Michael of any art stores that might have his things and Camilla practically leapt from her seat. Apparently she painted in her spare time and didn't know Jean was an artist. Her anger died down suddenly replaced by excitement and she directed Michael to take them to her usual store. When they arrived to a small store on the side streets of Florence they got out and spent around 2 hours inside the small store. It was strange but it made her happy, so Jean allowed her to pay for both their things.

He walked out of the store with enough to be able to busy himself with his classwork. Now he could distract himself to an extreme degree because the idea for his game design had taken a major turn. The ending product had a final design but now, now he had a great idea to tweak it just a bit and more than enough time to work on it. Camilla was talking about painting later and going to see Marco after lunch but would be back by dinner which she was apparently going to cook. Jean simply nodded in response too busy thinking of his new storyboard idea to really give it too much attention.

Once they reached the house he expressed to Michael he'd like to sleep elsewhere tonight as he wanted nothing to do with Marco. Michael nodded and had a guest room prepared for him as he took his things and laid in the floor of the new room. It was significantly smaller than Marco's room but of about average size with a cream and maroon color scheme. Still, it was a nice room and he felt comfortable as he laid out his things and began to sketch. Fantastical creatures and landscapes to ravaged, desolate lands and creatures of famine and disease. Various forms of inspiration came to mind as he plugged in his headphones and simply let his hands draw they wished. Using these landscapes and creatures he found a way to incorporate it into his game.

Songs took a turn for the darker as Jean found himself sketching out rough lines of freckled cheeks and devious grins. Sickle blades and flying knives soon found their way onto his sketch pad decorated with various sprays of blood and slain creatures. Marco was creeping into his drawings, finding ways to assert himself into Jean's very own subconscious. Among the creatures in this created world Marco's form stood firmly rooted with a pistol drawn and aimed towards a rift dweller, a horrendous creature he'd created. It seemed that now his story was going to take a turn: Marco had turned into the protagonist and everything flowed better.

With that thought in mind he continued his sketches to see just what else was lurking in the depths of his mind. Maybe one day he'd tell someone about the game but for now it was simply in pieces to be a 25 minute playable demo for the graduation product. That was all this was supposed to be but he couldn't help but want to continue. Marco in the protagonist's clothing came to mind and suddenly he began combining the pieces from the original protagonist to mesh with Marco and his own style. Shaggier hair, shining silver eye, cheshire's smile while wearing dirtied cargo pants, a high collared leather jacket with a bloodied t-shirt beneath it. It seemed all so real before he began adding the game armor over his attire and picking and choosing what would stay and go.

Hours passed in the blink of an eye before he knew what was going on. Camilla had gone and returned and whatever she was cooking smelt delicious. The smells were wafting up to the room and it had begun to make his mouth water. In the moment his stomach gurgled and rumbled he knew it was about time to wash up before dinner. Looking around him he was sitting in the center of a mess of various pages from the sketch book. Gathering them up he took them over to the desk and sat them in a neat stack. Hopefully tomorrow his things would arrive and he could get busy on the animation side of things.

Just as he began to open the door and head to the bathroom Michael appeared on the other side, quite shocked "Ah, I see the smell has caught your attention. Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes if you'd care to join us. I say care to but Camilla would drag you by the ear should you decline the offer."

"Haha, yes, I figured she might. I will certainly join her for dinner, thank you." Jean gave him a smile as he squeezed past him to head down the hall to the bathroom. He normally would have just washed his face and hands before dinner but he felt tired. After turning on the water to heat Jean grabbed one of his v-necks from the other day and against his will, a pair of Marco's pajama pants once he ducked back into the room. The hot water was certainly scalding as he stepped into the shower frantically turning the dial to mix in some cold water as quickly as possible.

The action put a bit of strain on his leg but he wasn't too worried about it, after all, it was hardly deep enough to garner too much damage. He shifted his body to avoid direct contact and finished up his shower rather quickly. Once he dried off sufficiently he tossed on Marco's pants and his t-shirt and tossed his other clothing in the hamper. When he made it downstairs he was more than shocked to see an entire table of men dressed in suits and Camilla dressed in a rather nice summer dress. Immediately he felt extremely underdressed and put on the spot as all eye fell to him.

Michelangelo approached him "Haha, don't feel strange Jean. It is just customary in the house to eat dinner with the top of the family. Most of the men you see here are the heads of different areas for the family. Right now you are the most powerful person in this room and as such you will sit at the head of the table with Camilla on your right and I at your left."

"I just feel incredibly _underdressed._ I was going to go to sleep after this so I figured that it would be best were I already dressed," Jean replied sheepishly as he took the pulled out seat for him.

"It's alright. There isn't really a dress code it's just more or less when everyone comes together from work to eat and are still in working attire. It's perfectly fine, Jean, just enjoy dinner and if there's anything you'd like me to translate for you just please ask." Michael lowered his head as he sat at the seat to his left. It was a bit strange as the other end of the table was empty. He was guessing the chair at the other end of the table was meant for Marco as all other seats were filled. Camilla served their dinner and Jean sat back simply amazed at the meal in front of him. There was no surprise of the grace spoken before their meal and even though he was not religious himself he honored their tradition and bowed his head, closing his eyes.

Dinner had been astounding. Flourishing conversation bounced from person to person and Jean even found himself laughing at the stories being told. These men that worked for Marco were enjoying his company his well and that was enlightening. He felt at home. Enjoying the conversation, eating dinner, laughing at jokes and stories from Marco's youth, all of it was just incredible. He'd never felt anywhere as warm and welcoming which once he thought about it, being in the center of the Italian Mafia, it sounded a bit strange.

When all was said and done all of Marco's captains bid him farewell and stood as he was first to leave. Camilla bid him goodnight with a kiss on the forehead and promises of breakfast in the morning, wine by dinner, and a relaxing day of seeing Italy in all her glory. Jean found himself returning her hug and even going as far as to kiss her cheek, to which she squealed with delight. He lowered his head to Marco's captains and took his leave up to the guest bedroom where Michael led him.

After a moment Michael cleared his throat and spoke out of turn which was quite unlike him "Jean, if I may, I think that you should sleep in _your_ room."

Tilting his head in confusion Jean blinked owlishly at him "Why do you think that?"

"Excuse my impertinence," he began "I just believe that, while Marco was not intending to be quite as large as an...erm... _asshole_ as he was, you still sleep there. It is your room and I do not believe that you fully intend on leaving Marco and this relationship."

Sighing Jean waved a dismissing hand "That would depend solely on Marco's actions. Do I want to leave him? No. Will I if he doesn't learn to respect my choices and understand that I am completely capable of knowing what is best for me? **Yes.** I think it's best I not spend too much time surrounded in a place where I'm suffocated in him. His bed, his clothes, anything just makes me queasy right now. That's why the second I get in this room I'm not gonna be wearing pants. I appreciate the concern, Michelangelo, I do, but please understand."

"Very well. I believe I do understand. If that is your wish I will leave you to it. Breakfast is at 9am." He spoke quietly with his head lowered as he turned to walk off leaving him to enter the room himself. Jean appreciated how much care was going into those thoughts but he needed to be heard that just because he did like Marco, a lot more than he should at the point in time, it didn't excuse him from acting the way he had. Marco needed to understand himself that he was being a dick an apologize. Picking his phone up from the nightstand he saw something he expected, but hoped wouldn't be the case.

There were no missed calls. He had zero text messages. Marco was apparently sticking his ground and that meant he was going to as well. After creating several more sketches he decided to head to bed and called it a night just before midnight.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome all! Because of my absence in the last week I'll be presenting you with two chapters this update! I hope you will enjoy it!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠
> 
> Ciao, posso aiutarla - Hi, may I help you?

He awoke a little before 8 with enough time to shower and dress in casual suit before he was being hauled downstairs to enjoy a nice, light breakfast with Camilla. Shockingly it was just the two of them before Michael was there to drive them around Florence. Visiting museums of art, to perusing local vendor stalls in the piazza, to having lunch, his day had only began and he was having the time of his life. It was incredible to be able to see Italy, to slow down to take it all in with Camilla at his side telling him fun anecdotes.

Six hours later they arrived back home and Camilla suggest he come relax with her poolside. Deciding he had nothing better to do he headed to Marco's bedroom to steal a pair of his swim trunks. He had a have a pair or two in that closet somewhere right? Wrong. His search finally came to fruition when he checked the wardrobe where his ears turned the slightest pink. Rifling through Marco's apparent underwear drawer he located a pair of swimming trunks and changed into them rather quickly. Getting to the pool he quickly found his way to the small table where he sat a towel.

Camilla was enjoying a glass of red wine as Michael had poured her glass then Jean's. He willingly accepted the glass and took a sip. Though he probably should've realized that they would have incredible wine he was a bit surprised upon his first sip. After being raised in his family he was familiar with fine wine when he tasted it. Marco always tasted like wine when they kissed....that first kiss. He'd tasted like wine, chocolate, and tobacco. Now he knew why. Picking up her glass Camilla removed the wrap around her body and sat it in the seat before slipping into the hot tub.

Jean tried to not openly stare at Marco's mother but she was gorgeous. Her body was thin yet she had curves: the body of a woman clearly twenty years younger. She chuckled as Jean must've displayed some kind of bewilderment. Jean pulled his shirt over his head, his tattoos and piercings in full display as he climbed into the circular hot tub atop the pool. Michael walked over to them as she asked him to translate for her.

"She says you looked surprised though she is surprised at all the tattoos and metal you have on your body."

Jean grinned and shrugged as he made sure his bandage over his wound was alright "Oh uh yeah. You still don't look old enough to be Marco's mother and well I worked in a tattoo parlor for a while."

Turning around she gestured to the red rose on her left shoulder blade as Michael translated "Thank you. Yes, I have one myself. It says 'Marco: I love more than life itself to protect you I would give my own soul."

He immediately thought of Marco's tattoo "And he has the one for you on his shoulder. I wondered why it said 'in exchange of my own soul' I guess I know now."

"Yes, well, I gave up many things for my Marco. I owed the family a lot of money and being unable to pay it back I was Marco's father's concubine to put it simply. I had a job working at a bar as a server but I didn't make enough for the payments and after Marco was born I never heard from them again. It was suspicious yes but I was thankful. It wasn't until later I learnt I was used to conceive Marco because of his barren wife. I never regretted having Marco but there were times where it was beyond difficult. Thanks to him, however, we didn't struggle as much as we could have." As Michael finished translating her words Jean took an immense sip of his wine.

Thinking of how awful her experience had to have been Jean just stared for several moments before words formed "I am so sorry. That sounds absolutely awful, Camilla. I am familiar with some of what Marco did in his past. I've obviously seen the scars littered across his skin, I've even seen him in action, and I can say that while I hate he had to do it, I'm glad he did. It made him who he is and that is the asshole that I like."

She reached out and placed a hand on his cheek "Thank you, son. Marco has his problems, I know it, but I am glad that he found you. You are good for him. His actions are not what I have wanted for him but so long as he is happy I am as well. You seem to make him happy....if the other night had a clue haha."

Jean's eyes widened as he averted his gaze "Erm...uh, yes, well. I have a hard time saying no to him in that manner of things. He just pouts until I cave, okay? I'm happy that you approve of me."

Sitting down her glass he moved to hug him and ruffle his hair a bit "He inherited that ability haha! Of course, you are my son now too." Michael was about to speak when there was a buzz sounding from the house. Apparently someone was at the front gate needing to be let in and it was Michael's job to go and check on whoever was wishing entrance. Much to Jean's surprise it was the courier with his things from Isabel's home in Paris. Taking his items back up to the room he promised Camilla that they would later have to relax once again. He had thanked her for the wine and informed her that he had to work on his classwork now that his laptop had arrived.

Shifting through his things he was suddenly extremely happy to have his wallet back. How he'd left it he hadn't recalled but now he could withdraw his own money and not have to worry. It would be a long night as he had to complete his storyboard, and with Camilla going back to Marco's he decided that it might be fun to hit up some of Florence's night life. Online forums were awash with the buzz of how infamous Florence's nightclubs were so why not celebrate finishing up his storyboard with a night out for himself? That is if he did finish it up in time.

He opened his laptop, plugged it in, put in his headphones and set to work immediately. With all the sketches he had done the night before he had everything in mind for the next piece of the storyboard and animation. It was around 10pm when he'd finally finished his work and he was certain that a drink and some dancing might be exactly what he needed. Dancing and listening to music always found a way to let him unwind. Looking up some places to go he found Space Electronic and opted for it. Getting ready was quick as he opted for his casual suit an headed downstairs. Michael had given him a rather intrigued stare but ultimately decided to take him.

Thankful for his silence on the matter Jean enjoyed his ride through Florence at night as he watched all the lights. It was truly magnificent and he found himself getting lost in the city's breathtaking view. Michael stopped the car just in front of the club but Jean refused to let him open his door for him and slid out before he had a chance.

"Don't tell Marco. Thanks." He ran off quickly into the club before anything else could be said. There was a slight feeling of dishonesty sinking into his stomach but it wasn't like he was cheating on him, or planning on it. Sue him for just wanting to drink, have a good time, maybe dance with some strangers. His mind needed to be off Marco and just how much a douche he'd been so he wouldn't drink himself stupid. Much to his surprise there was an ATM right inside the door and he figured that was for the abroad college kids that probably frequented the place.

Checking his balance his eyes almost fell from his sockets. Levi had paid him alright and he had no idea how, or why, there was so much money in his account but he proceeded with action and withdrew £200. It should be more than enough. He'd paid his cover fee once inside then headed to the bar. It was immensely crowded due to Monday nights being college night. Honestly he should have guessed. The lights were flashing across the room from the 3rd story of the establishment and the walls were alight with their own illuminated pulse.

Down on the first floor was the bar in a more relaxed atmosphere as the second floor held the dance floor and the third was just a balcony area. He spent an hour on the second floor watching and dancing a bit before he wanted to cool down and relax. Wanting to drink and acclimate himself to the calmer atmosphere he headed down to the bar. It was a rather elaborate set up with the bar having the lighting beneath it and the shelving constructed behind the bar. The music was nice and upbeat but now came his hardest problem: the language barrier. Jean was alone and couldn't speak the language and here he was staring down the bar trying to figure out how to order a damn drink.

The bartender approached him, a man of about an inch taller and bright eyes "Ciao, posso aiutarla?" 

Jean fumbled around with his phone before typing out and having it translated "I'm sorry. I can't speak Italian."

Smiling the man nodded "It's okay. I can speak English rather well."

"Thank you haha. Maybe now I can accurately order a Sex on the Beach." He smiled and tried to let his awkward feeling dissipate.

"If that's what you want sure thing. You know there's some beaches not too far from here that I'm sure would help you out," after a moment he grinned cheek to cheek "if that's what you're into."

Eyes widening Jean fumbled over his words "I--Oh my god, I--Don't-- You guys don't have that drink?"

"Hahaha!" Howling with laughter the man shook his head "I can make it yes. Don't worry."

Narrowing his eyes Jean pouted "You were just fucking with me....good one."

As he set to creating the drink he shrugged his shoulders "Ah, well, you are an American who came to Italy and cannot speak our language. It's a bit fun to mess with you. Tell me, what brings you here? College?"

"Hospital actually. I was sitting with someone in the hospital for a bit," he spoke with a soured smile as he watched the man pour his drink.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is there a reason you aren't there now?" As he slid the drink to him, he folded his arms over the bar fully intent on listening to him.

Jean took a sip of his drink "There is. I just came here to get it off my mind really. They're fine so I'm not too worried."

"May I ask what happened? As to why you aren't there?" The man's intrigue was a bit off to him, or maybe it was to keep him at the bar.

"Big mouth. Both of ours really. Thanks for the drink, how much do I owe you?" Jean asked, anxious to move topics.

He smiled and offered out his hand "£9. Though you'll owe Ariana after that, the bright redhead over there, because I'm on break now."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt. I also can't tell who has what hair color," Jean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he looked down at his drink.

Taking the money from him he slid it to the register and tossed his apron on the counter "Oh? Is it too dark? My name is Damiano Buffone by the way. Why don't I join you for a bit?"

A bit off put, but thankful for conversation, he agreed "Sure. Jean Kirschtein. Well it's a bit dark and I'm uh, completely colorblind. I see in black and white and lovely shades of grey."

"Nice to meet you Jean, I've never met anyone who was colorblind before," Damiano extended a hand with a polite smile.

Shaking his hand Jean replied casually "It's not very common to be _completely_ colorblind. There are apps to assist me when I get dressed so I can match haha."

"I see. It definitely helps you dress rather nicely. Can I ask what it is that you do where you're from, Jean?" His tone slipped lower as he rounded the bar and took a seat at his side.

Jean felt a bit strange as he registered the tone but continued "Thank you. I was a dance instructor, worked in a video game store, and I go to college in Los Angeles, California."

"So you dance? Awesome. You came to the right place so why don't you show me some of those moves? Come shake a little something," he stood and outstretched his hand with a rather inviting smile and Jean thought there might have been no harm in it.

Before he moved to finish his drink there was an arm tossed around his neck _"Buonasera, Damiano."_

Freezing at the tone of voice Jean refused to turn as he watched his companion smile "I seem to have made a wrong choice in companionship for the evening. Jean, there's someone you should meet."

Eyes rolling and voice rising Jean shook the arm off his chest "There's no need. I know him already. _Very. Fucking. Well."_ Turning he poked a finger into his chest "How fucking _dare_ you! You know full well you should still be in the hospital! How many people did you pay off and scream at to do this, huh? You ask Michael where I went too? Sure showing a lot of fucking jealousy for someone who wanted me to _leave."_

Damiano paused and interrupted Jean's rant "So...Marco is the one in the hospital. Are you two uh....together?"

Marco groaned "Get back to doing your job, _Jester_. You work for me last I checked and have no right to ask who is involved in my personal aff-"

"Our relationship is a little undefinable right now. Whether or not I stay here depends completely on his actions and right now he's not showing me any reason to stay," Jean spat venomously.

"Looks like you were waiting on a chance to just leave Jean. Unfortunately for you, you didn't know that I have ties to this club. Damiano here works for me, the owner is in my pocket, and I have some dealings out of this place. It looks like we need to go home and have a talk. Let's go," Marco grabbed Jean's forearm as he lead him from the bar. Jean would have fought against him but he was right that there was no need to have this talk anywhere but home. Willingly he walked alongside Marco yet jerked his arm free of his grasp. He was fully capable of walking by himself. Once outside Marco grumbled and quickly shut his eye as Michael opened the door for them. Jean shot him an icy glare for ratting him out but slid into the backseat of the car first.

Marco opened his eye once inside and said something to Michelangelo as Jean moved to unbutton his shirt "Shut the fuck up, Marco. Not a goddamn word. I need to see if you hurt yourself being a fucking idiot tonight." He began mumbling to himself as he checked the dressing over Marco's wounds. There was no bleeding or anything that would have suggested he did something strenuous. At least that was good. Finishing up the inspection he closed the buttons on his shirt and scooted as far to the other side of the vehicle as physically possible. During the duration of the ride back to the estate Marco's knee bounced and the fingers on his right hand were busy. The signs that he was antsy.

Upon their arrival Jean opened his own door and awaited both Marco and Michael at the front door. The moment it was open Jean walked hastily up the stairs and to the bedroom he had been staying in. Marco followed behind him and entered the room a few moments later. Glancing around the room it had been obvious he was sleeping in this room instead of Marco's.

With a sigh Marco began "Why didn't you tell me you quit your jobs, Jean?"

Clicking his teeth he scoffed "Tch, wasn't important. You didn't care anyway you just wanted this _'love-struck teenage girl'_ on the first plane out."

Regretting his word choice now that it was being thrown back at him Marco sat down at the foot of the bed "It **is** important. I told you not be giving up your life to be able to be here with me Jean. I don't want that for you. You deserve better than that, better than what it would take for you to be here with me. I don't want to be the reason you look back at your life and hate the choices you made. Jean you can still make choices that will take you somewhere in life. Don't get tied down in this. What about your degree? The game you were making?"

"Who the hell do you think you are trying to dictate how I live my life Marco? That isn't up to you. It's my life and I get to make my own choices. Whether or not I will regret it doesn't matter. I can't tell the future Marco and neither can you. Don't pretend to think for me. If I want to get _'tied down in this'_ then it's my choice to make. Marco, my feelings for you are important to me. You're important to me. The most important thing. I wouldn't have taken a fucking knife in the thigh if you weren't. Why can't you just accept that? As for my classes I've changed to an online curriculum and you'll find my work on the desk. I just sent in my work a few hours ago." Jean laid back on the bed and drug Marco to lay back gently as he spoke.

Rolling on his right side Marco shook his head at him "It's your life, yes, and I want you to do what's best for you. That means not giving up your dream to be here with me. I want you to be happy and have a choice to not live like this. Crime doesn't exactly seem to be a life you're made out for. I might have been born into this but I'm happy with it. You don't have to choose it."

"But Marco, what I'm saying is," Jean placed a hand on his cheek "is that I _want_ to choose it. Sure, because you're here, but I never felt like I was going anywhere doing anything else. I won't ever be able to finish my game. It can never be done with me doing everything for it. To finish it...I'd need it colored. No one can see what I do and it would never be right, not to me, so I can never finish it completely. I can do just enough for it to be my product but without the ability to see color I cannot finish. My dream was to have my degree but it's changed now. I can have my degree and be here with you, that's what I want. I care about you, Marco, you make me smile, make me laugh, even when I don't think I can. I want to be someone you can depend on when you need to. I want to do for you what you do for me, is that wrong of me?"

Softly he whispered out "No, it's not. I just...in the end...if things don't go well I don't want you to look back and regret it. I thought if I could get you to go back you'd get so caught up that you would forget and not come back. It would be best for your life. You wouldn't need aliases, complete fake identities, finger print scans...you wouldn't need to run or hide. I can't say that I approve of you wanting to do this and throw it away for me....."

"You're worth not going back. No matter what I would have come back and wanted to be right here. I knew from the start there was no getting you out of my head. I'm never gonna spend another night without you in my dreams and I don't want to. With all of me I can say that nothing has ever felt so real or so right. I want to be with you, no matter what that takes. Hell, you fucking branded me like cattle Marco, said I chose you when I chose it so stop trying to get rid of me. I've said it before Marco and I mean it more each time I say it. Maybe the criminal life isn't cut out for me but the second you're hurt I don't care anymore. I have no family. My friends aren't even close to me much anymore except Eren, Armin, and Connie who I work with. I'm not really leaving anything behind to be here."

"How can you be so sure, Jean? I'm so far from perfect, so far from deserving anything of this, so far from deserving someone like _you_. Your hands are stained bloody just as mine are. You've killed people Jean all to protect someone like me. I don't know how you did it honestly but the second I remembered it I wanted to protect you from it. Instead you choose to embrace it and be with me in blood. I didn't know what to say to get you to leave but it's clear you're just as stubborn, if not more, than I am. My Capo even like you....I don't know what to do anymore."

"You shut up, let me stay, agree to respect my choice, and I'll be here no matter what. I don't even want to think about that day Marco.....I just remember you hurt and I could hear everything around me, smell everything from cologne to subtle scents of plum in Krista's perfume, and feel the vibrations from heavier shoes and men stomping the ground as they moved. My other senses are much better to rely on than my eyes. I just did what instinct told me to. If I have to do it again my body will act of it's own accord. That's all I know. I don't care to think on it. I know you have some deep unresolved issues and I've even had some chats with Hanji, Ymir, and your mother. I don't care how you see yourself because it's not how I see you. To me you are so much more than you could ever think."

Marco's lips curled ever so slightly as he met his gaze "Fine, Jean, you win. Stay here with me. Stay as long as you are able, as long as you want. I'd ask you to stay forever but--"

"I will. Forever."

"Haha, oh Jean, what am I going to do with you? You're going to make me soft," Marco sighed and put his head to the bed when Jean lifted his chin and kissed him.

The connection was momentary before he grinned wildly "I've got some ideas of what you could do," leaning into his ear he nipped at his skin "and they'll make you anything but _soft_......too bad you injured yourself, pissed me off, then decided to get out of the hospital where you would have properly cared for."

Marco clenched his jaw "I heard you went to a club that I know for a fact has a gay bartender and you'd try to piss me off. I got jealous. Sue me. I have every medication I was on, even have a nurse on staff ya know, she can give me anything I need and I've got you for the rest of it. Now, I think I could go for some physical therapy."

"Nooope!" Jean chirped as he jumped up from the bed "I do think you should sleep alone tonight as well."

"Didn't we just solve this argument?!" Marco whined as he sat up.

Jean folded his arms over his chest "I haven't heard an apology, you expressly say that you're going to do as I asked, nor have you offered a way to make it up to me. Hmpf."

Standing and walking over to Jean he wrapped his right arm over his waist and pressed his lips to his temple "I'm sorry for disrespecting you and your choices. I promise I will no longer interfere in your choices, only offer my advice or opinion if you seek them. To account for my selfish and disrespectful actions I will simply do as you wish."

"Good, then you'll sleep alone, take all your medication at the appropriate time, do nothing strenuous for the next few weeks while taking care of work, you'll be nice to Ymir when she arrives, make no sexual advances towards me for 24 hours, and you'll take over as the head of Italy. Those are my wishes. Have I missed anything?" Jean listed and smiled as he met Marco's eyes.

Marco cursed under his breath "Why did I say that?! Fine. I don't know why you want me to do that but --"

"Levi said he would like you to take the position too."

"You spoke to him about it?! _Fuck._ Now, if Levi says it I really don't have a choice. Fine. I'll do as you ask but why do I have to sleep alone? I've not been able to sleep beside you in weeks, Jean," Marco pleaded with him as he tugged him closer.

Jean wanted desperately to give into his warmth and lay against his chest but he knew he couldn't "Marco, you need to sleep alone tonight. For both our sakes. I'll come check in with you in the morning and lay with you for a bit if you want."

Visibly pouting, Marco posed a stipulation "Only if you promise to be the one to help me out throughout the day with these dressings. Adriana should be here mid-afternoon with everything I sent her for but I was having this changed every 4 hours give or take."

"Fine," Jean agreed with another chaste kiss before making him sit back down on the bed "do me a favor. Sit there. Be very still and stare straight at me." Jean moved to sit down at the desk in the room fully intent on finish a sketch he'd made earlier. Marco seemed a bit perplexed but he obeyed and sat still, both eyes focused on Jean in the dim lighting. Quickly sketching in the finer details of the previously sketched frame of Marco's face Jean turned and studied his work.

Marco arched a brow "Care to inform me what you're doing over there?"

"Working," Jean replied as he carefully inched closer to Marco's face.

"Wha--"

 _"Shh._ Stop moving your lips," he demanded as he finally finished the details of Marco's lips and eyes. It was so much easier staring at him and drawing than it was trying to recall all the small details. Up close it was so much easier to examine the perfect arch of Marco's eyebrows, the way his nose turned up at the end a bit, how his freckles seemed to have formed light patterns over his skin, and more importantly he wished he could have captured that look reflecting in his eyes as Marco stared back at him. He might not have been able to see color but he could very well feel the emotion in them.

It caused a warmth in his chest, one unlike he'd ever known but he reveled in it. He might not have experienced it before but he certainly knew what it was. There was a large grin spreading his lips as he focused more on the small details of Marco's face. Once he'd finished he sat down the sketch on the desk and moved towards Marco taking a seat in his lap. He'd decided Marco couldn't make any sexual advances but he hadn't say anything about himself. The heat in his chest was boiling his blood and he just wanted Marco, anything he could get, any flesh he could touch or taste. He'd missed him, he'd been terrified of losing him, and now that he had him there was no way, upon his realization, that he was letting him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/2


	18. Chapter 18

Placing a hand at the back of Marco's neck he steadied himself then placed a hand over his right eye as he turned on the lamp "Keep your eye closed."

"Jean," Marco paused and pulled his hand from his face "what are you doing? And why were you drawing me?"

"Marco," Jean whispered against his throat between kisses "what do you _think_ I'm doing? And it was for something to be discussed later."

"Discuss it with me... _erm_...now. You said no sexual advances from me and you wouldn't have said that if you were going to make the move yourself. What's going on?" Marco questioned sincerely as he pushed Jean back from him carefully.

With a huff Jean pouted "I said that because you shouldn't get the pleasure of starting anything. I think that should fall to me when I want to. I was just drawing you and watching you, from the way your eyes narrowed just so slightly as you watched the motion of my fingers while I sketched, from the emotion in your eyes when I was examining the patterns of your irises."

A bit surprised Marco quirked a brow "So watching me, watching you, is what got you all hot and bothered?"

"Not _only_ but it had some affect. Is there something wrong with that? I just want to be with you for a bit....okay? I missed you," Jean looked up at him with a feigned smile as he slid a hand down Marco's chest.

Steadying Jean by placing his hand at his lower back Marco shook his head "If you miss me then sleep with me instead and stay the entire night at my side."

"We both know I'd want to have sex with you if I stayed by your side tonight."

"And that is different from right now, _how?"_

".....Do you have to call me out on that?" Jean averted his eyes from Marco as his cheeks reddened.

Marco leaned forward placing his head against Jean's chest "I didn't have to but it's true. You can't exactly hide it. Your skin is flushed, your pupils are extremely dilated, and let's be honest here, you're painfully hard and in my lap." He wrapped both arms around his hips and breathed lowly against his chest "I can help but only if you sleep beside me."

"I don't need your help with that....I can do it myself I wanted to but I don't. Would you just kiss me?" Jean whined and raked his fingers through Marco's hair.

Looking up Marco smiled "I'm sure you don't. If I kiss you I'm going to want more than a kiss Jean." In response Jean squirmed free of his hold and seized his wrist dragging him from the room. Sneaking down the hallway he led the way to their bedroom and pushed open the door trying to remember the layout so he wouldn't trip in the dark. Thankfully Marco then led the way over to the edge of the bed and urged him back until he felt the bed's frame at the back of his legs.

Slinging his arms around Marco's waist holding him close, as if he'd slip away, he whispered softly _"Kiss me."_

"As you wish," he hummed as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I know what you want, and I'll gladly give you anything, but I want to know why. Why _really._ Watching me wasn't enough. Something else flipped your switch, Jean, what is it?"

Mumbling into his chest Jean's voice trembled "I just....Marco I was so scared I was going to lose you. I was fucking _terrified_ and every hour when I was waiting felt like an eternity. Not knowing if your partner is going to survive is horrifying Marco." His voice was barely audible as he gripped a handful of Marco's shirt "I wasn't scared in the moment of what I was doing back in France but the moment my adrenaline stopped and your injuries registered I couldn't breath. It was like a hand down my throat crushing my lungs. My heart beat couldn't even keep up, I could hear it in my ears, and time around us slowed. I've _never_ been so scared Marco. In my life never have I had to experience the fear of the man I think I'm in love with not waking up to smile at me, to make me laugh, to tell me how the world is ours, or just never feel the rush of his skin again. I don't want to take this life for granted Marco, I--"

Before he could finish his words Marco's right arm was squeezing him tightly as the left's pressure was light enough to not hurt him "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for _everything J_ ean. I've been so wrong. There are a lot of things in this world that I do not deserve and I'll never understand how you got dropped into my lap as one of them but there's no way in hell I'm giving you up. I thought I could but you're right....nothing is scarier than losing the man you love. Hell, just the thought might cause you to do something stupid like suggest they leave you before it can happen, maybe you force your way out of a hospital, and make a complete and _total_ ass of yourself."

Burying his face harder into his chest Jean let a sob wrack his chest "You almost _died_ Marco! I was so scared to lose you, to have to be alone, to be without you and live with an irreplaceable ache in my chest. Don't ever leave me alone, Marco! _Please."_

"I promise," Marco placed his head on Jean's shoulder "I'll _never_ leave you alone. Jean, will you look at me?" As Jean lifted his head and Marco smiled down at him he wiped a tear from Jean's cheek "You think you're in love with me? You want to know how I _know_ I'm in love with you? Then maybe you can tell me if it's the same for you. My ability to love may be warped by what I do....some would claim I do not possess the innate ability to do so at all and, maybe, I used to believe it. The rush I feel when I'm with you is unlike anything I've ever felt, you give me a passion I've never felt, a spark I've never had, a will to be better, to show you that I can deserve you. Jean, I've made you a commitment that I fully intend to keep and if I didn't see a future with you I wouldn't have agreed to keep seeing you. I cannot picture a future for myself without you in it. You mean so much to me Jean. We've already been through hell and back and you're still here. I'm pretty sure I can, _we_ can, do _anything_ so long as we're together. Jean, a life without you is not one I would call worth living, you provide me with love, comfort, a firm reassurance, a strict yet level guiding hand, and you do things for me no one has ever been able to do. I've never been scared to die until now. It's hard for me to express my deepest fears, I feel it makes me weak and like I'm not good enough, and that is perhaps my biggest fear: to be weak or looked down on....or it _used_ to be. Now, my biggest fear is losing you."

Jean's eyes widened, clearly missing his earlier admission "I--I...Marco, I've never seen you as weak."

Taking a deep breath he reached a hand for Jean's jaw "I know that. I just feel like I'm looked at as my father's son and not my own man. I strove for something to always set me apart and I didn't want to be looked at as his son. Why couldn't people see me as something other than an ass for a throne I never wanted? What if I did take over and I wasn't good enough? What if they always compared me to him for the rest of my life? It was hard trying to make a name for myself only to have it taken from me when I realized I was only ever wanted because of my father, because the blood in my veins and not who I was. Levi was the first person, aside from my mother and Nero, to see me as me. My Spade family saw me as me and then only one other person did: you. You're the only person to want me as myself, not something I created, not for my power, not for my abilities, not for money, just for me and the way I made you feel. You haven't even tried to change me. Instead I wanted to change myself for you. Do you understand, Jean? I love you for you, everything you are and everything you will _ever_ be."

Unable to get a word out of his gaping mouth Jean nodded his head. Another tear glistened as it ran down his cheek and once again it was Marco who would wipe it away. No one had ever even told Jean those his words and meant it aside from perhaps Jon. Sure, his friends might have loved him but no one had ever loved him like this. No one had ever been able to express that Jean was important, important to their life, but especially not as a factor to improve their life. He was more than a bit stunned. A moment ago he had a feeling that he loved Marco but now.....he knew he did. His own sentiment was reflected in everything Marco had expressed. Marco somehow always managed to be able to read him and weave exactly what he needed to hear and be what he needed to be.

Squeezing him tightly Jean rasped out "I love you, Marco. I love you."

"Ti amo." Marco held him and whispered against his ear "I love you too. Now, please don't cry anymore. I can't stand to see you cry." Releasing him, Jean nodded and used a hand to help him find his way around the bed. Walking away he moved to the other side of their bed and shimmied out of his clothing. Just after getting into bed he turned on the lamp and smiled at Marco, beckoning him to join him beneath the blankets. Gladly obliging Marco replicated his actions as he stripped down to his boxers yet left his shirt on. Once he was in bed, Jean assisted with getting him out of his shirt being careful to not cause him harm.

After he'd gotten settled Jean made his way into Marco's lap wrapping his arms around his neck and laying his head down on Marco's chest. Listening to his heartbeat had never been so calming but Marco's fingers were raking so pleasantly through his hair and all he could do was melt into him. At first he thought it was an element meant to calm him before he finally came to realize, by looking up to see his smile, that it was also for Marco. Marco enjoyed just brushing through his hair, it soothed them both, but more than anything he loved having Jean be at ease relaxing against him.

"Hey, Marco?" Jean called weakly as he closed his eyes "Do you think I can sleep here tonight and you still understand that I was completely serious earlier?"

"Of course you can. I know, Jean, that I was wrong. I just wanted to keep us both from having to hurt in the long run but," he kissed the crown of his head "so long as I have you for as long as I can it's worth whatever pain can come along in the end."

"God," Jean breathed as he looked up to Marco "how in the hell do people go so long without feeling this?"

With an answer Jean didn't expect Marco kissed him softly and cupped his cheek "Because people spend their entire lifetimes trying to find a soul to complete their miserable existence. Instead they need to be finding the soul that reminds them they're already whole. Alone they need to be told that they're already perfect even with their flaws but when they're together....they'll shine like stars. We're lucky we did find it."

Jean sighed and shook his head "You're ridiculous. I'm glad you compliment my miserable existence though."

"Speaking of miserable," Marco grinned "we never solved your intentions from earlier."

"I'm happier now," Jean hummed contentedly as he slid his fingers up to play with Marco's hair brushing past his nape piercing. "I saw that sparkle in your eyes and it just....the love I saw reflected in your eyes just enforced what I thought I felt. I needed to know for sure and I was overwhelmed by my own limbic system."

"Then, do you want me to tell you I love you," as Jean opened his mouth to reply he cut him off "without having to say a _word?"_ Jean had no verbal response instead he leaned down to kiss Marco and tug on the strands of hair his fingers wrapped around. There was a slight wheeze from Marco's lips as Jean moved to get more comfortable. Deciding it might be a better idea to lay over on his side he rolled off Marco's lap and reached out gingerly for Marco's jaw turning it towards him as he connected his lips to Marco's. Naturally his legs tangled around Marco's as he tugged himself closer.

As he deepened their kiss he slid a hand down Marco's stomach still feeling some of the small bandages littering his skin. Making sure to be careful he let his fingertips ghost over his skin and avoid his wounds while mapping their way down his body. Silently he slid his fingers into his boxers to toy with the piercings lining Marco's cock. The breath in Marco's lungs hitched just as Jean pinched his lip in his teeth pulling away from his kiss while his fingers twisted a barbell between them. He'd chuckled to himself and made sure to keep Marco on his back even as he tried to roll over to take control.

Jean carefully used his free hand to push him back to the bed "Bad. Marco, you know I love it when you wanna take control but you can't put any kind of weight on that arm and you can't tire yourself out. It'd not be good."

"Ugh," Marco groaned as Jean continued running his fingers along his shaft "and what. _..hhng._...are you proposing?"

"You let me do everything," he paused to crawl over him and tug his boxers down his thighs "including what I promised a little more than 3 weeks ago." He splayed Marco's thighs and settled between them as he kissed his way down his hips. Fingertips curling over his hipbones Jean drug his fingernails across his skin, welting it as Marco had reached down to weave his hand in his hair. It'd felt nice, he had to admit, as he dipped lower running the flat of his tongue over Marco's cock. His fingers had tightened and Jean just snickered before he twirled his tongue around the piercings twisting them in his teeth.

Lavishing Marco's cock with every ounce of his attention Jean was taking his length almost in entirety. Unravelling Marco was something he'd had fun doing as he continued taking his length at various increments. Hearing the soft moans and mewls as he screwed his eyes shut and leaned back against the bed, Marco was making music that Jean would give anything to hear for the rest of his life. Nothing was quite like hearing a man like Marco Bodt writhing in pleasure beneath his touch, the only thing better would be hearing him beg.

As he thought of making Marco beg, he didn't know if he should. On one hand it would be nice revenge since he'd be caving in on two of his restrictions from earlier then again when Marco got better he might make it worse for him. He decided to see just how much it would take for that to happen, after all, their first time Marco had seen fit to make him beg. Fair was fair right? With that in mind he slowed his pace the moment he felt Marco's muscles tighten and his breath stutter. Bringing him just to the edge of his release Jean quickly stopped and looked up to him with a devious grin. In response Marco cracked open an eye and curled his fingers in his hair.

His voice was low, almost shaking as he shuddered "That was rude, baby. Something you're aiming for?" Jean shook his head and went back to his previous actions trying to take Marco's mind off what he might be planning. Instead of taking Marco in entirety he settled for leaving small, soft kisses along his cock, winding his tongue at an agonizing pace. By that time Marco's hips were rocking trying to seek out much more than Jean was giving him. It had gotten to the point of Marco grumbling something in Italian under his breath.

"Jean," Marco panted heavily "stop teasing me and let me come. Is this payback?"

"Maybe a _little,"_ he smirked "say the magic word and I promise I'll be really nice tonight."

Dropping his hand from his hair Marco placed it at his cheek _"Please, Jean?"_ Turning into his hand he kissed his palm and nodded with a smile. Jean returned his attention to Marco's cock lapping lazily up his shaft before taking him in his mouth and allowing him to thrust his hips as he liked. Rutting into Jean's mouth was a pleasure Marco knew he wouldn't often get so he took it rocking his hips up as Jean swallowed him. Marco's climax approached rapidly as he'd been denied his earlier apex. The almost pain pooling low in his gut began to twist as it released. As he achieved the first orgasm of the night Jean pushed him through it, swallowing the emission.

Looking up he examined the flushed expression of relief on Marco's face. That was a delicious sight. His cheeks were hinted just the slightest rosy shade, his brow knit, his chest heaved with stunted breath, but most of all he looked up to gently caress Jean's cheek. Moving up his body, Jean kissed and nipped his way towards Marco's lips before kissing him deeply. Tasting the warmth of missed connection Jean lost himself in the embrace with Marco stealing his breath. Skillfully slipping his hand down Jean's stomach Marco ran his fingers down his body pawing his hand at his inseam.

Jean moaned lowly as Marco's fingers rubbed over his cock, teasing him through the damp, taut fabric "Mmm, you're so excited aren't you?" Delving past his boxers he pushed his hand into his boxers teasing a stroke around his length "Look at you. You're already a complete mess, see?" Withdrawing his hand he rubbed his thumb, index, and middle fingers together showing the sheen of pre-cum on his skin. Marco had given him that all too devious smile as he pressed his lips into the exposed tendon of his throat bruising his already marked flesh.

Trying to keep down his voice Jean mouthed at Marco's throat, rasping between kisses _"Marco.....where?"_

Chuckling Marco smiled "You mean you didn't snoop through my things?" He then nodded towards the left side of the bed and Jean followed his line of sight. Due to it being on the left side he knew Marco couldn't get to it so he leaned off the bed and searched the drawer. There was some difficulty in reaching it but he'd grabbed the lubricant and a condom before returning to the bed. Marco had then given him an all too seductive smile as he picked up the lubricant bottle.

Taking it back from him Jean shook his head "Told you. I can do everything."

"Even if I want to?" Marco posed tilting his head to the side "Can't I have _this_ much? Just lay your head on my shoulder and slide up." Jean seriously questioned his ability to do so but when those big doe eyes were pleading with him he found it difficult to tell him no. Deciding to obey he stripped off his boxers and straddled him once again doing as he'd asked, maneuvering to an easy position for Marco. Assisting him with popping the top of the bottle he poured some of the substance into Marco's hand allowing him to thoroughly coat his fingers. Jean gave him a nod and a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss him.

Marco allowed Jean to kiss him feverishly as he plunged a singular slicked digit into him. Suffocating feeling clenching at his chest, Jean tore himself back to bite down on Marco's clavicle. Not having sex in almost a month coupled with his emotional vulnerability seemed to have made him more apt to experience a heightened rush of pleasure pooling low in his stomach. Maybe it was just Marco, maybe it was having him and knowing that the man beneath him was his in every way. It was comforting. Marco loved him and wanted him to stay with him. God he'd missed him, missed this connection, missed all of him.

Wrapping his arms around Marco's neck he steadied himself and nipped his earlobe before whimpering "I love you." He could feel Marco's delay as the thrust of his digit stopped and he added another. In response Marco kissed the skin he could reach returning then to his actions. It seemed that his confession had an averse affect of Marco. He could feel Marco's breathing shallow with his own as he added the third finger. Marco's actions were hasty as the fingers inside him curled and stretched, rubbing against him. He couldn't help but think Marco was just impatient as he was when his hips rolled back to meet his thrusting fingers.

Fumbling around after Marco withdrew the pleasure giving digits Jean kissed his jaw and sat back as he found the condom. Grinning as he ripped it open he turned to slide the latex over Marco's cock. He heard the gasp leave Marco's lips as he stroked a layer of lubricant over him and moved to sink down onto him. That was certainly a feeling he gasped at in unison. The pressure and completion of feeling Marco inside him almost made him dizzy with lust. His desire was only hastened as Marco ran a hand up his stomach looking to him with hungry eyes.

Lifting himself and letting Marco slip from beneath him he sank down again letting the feeling register. All of Marco's piercings dragging along him internally caused his body to shiver. He picked up his pace once he could do so without feeling his stomach flip. It was all too good. He felt too good, too amazing, in the heat of the moment as Marco bucked his hips forcing a loud moan over his lips. His eyes were closed focusing on the sheer amount of ecstasy colliding with his nerves but Marco was watching every rise and fall of his chest, every shiver, every motion his body made no matter how small. His hand secured around Jean's cock pumping him in rhythm.

Non-committal moans and mewls tumbled from Jean's mouth as he bounced in Marco's lap forgetting everything but Marco and the way he felt. His veins were alight with only something Marco could sate but something about now was almost cold, detached, in a way. As if Marco felt the same thing he did his best to sit up. Jean would have fought him had he not began kissing down his neck while running his hand up his lower back. This was better. Feeling the heat of Marco's breath on his skin, feeling their sweat slick skin slide against each other, hearing all the strangled sounds exit his breath on a whisper: this was the kind of the sex he wanted right now. He wanted to feel close to Marco, as close as he could.

Running his hands over Marco's skin he tore at the flesh on his right shoulder while feeling Marco bite down hard on his collarbone. As he felt the tension in his body signaling his approaching climax his breath began to stutter, trembling as the only thing he could manage were screams of Marco's name. Like music to his ears Marco's body shivered and his deft fingers curled around Jean's cock pushing him to his apex. When he finally achieved his orgasm he kept his pace to push Marco to his though he was sure with the quake and wobble of his thighs he didn't have much, if any, stamina left in his body. Thankfully it hadn't taken much more of a push before Marco too enjoyed the euphoric release of his orgasm.

The two laid back without much will to move. Jean looked up to Marco as he managed a weak smile. Brushing the sweat drenched hair from his brow he leaned down and Jean met him halfway for a kiss. He wanted to regain his breath but losing it by way of kissing Marco wasn't so bad either. Once he had, however, regained both his breath and ability to walk without wobbling Jean had cleaned the mess from both of them and turned on the fan on his way back into the room. The two of them were hot but he wasn't going to sleep without hearing Marco next to him. Not again. He'd missed hearing him at night beside him and now that he was able he wasn't giving it up. Ever.

In the dark Marco reached over to him "Jean."

"Whaatt?" He replied with a soft whine.

"You're everything I've ever wanted or needed. As long as we live I am yours. I love you, sleep well," he whispered lowly as he tugged him against his right side and rested his head against Jean's.  
  
Jean kissed his chest "And I'm yours. I love you too Marco. Goodnight." The moment Jean drifted off to sleep he'd never felt so secure. So warm. So loved. He'd not even dreamt as he rested against Marco's chest as there was no need for his mind to wander when the best thing that had ever happened to him was laying beneath him. Apparently he'd been so comfortable with that thought that even when it was time to get up, he didn't. His body's circadian rhythm had negated itself in lieu of being able to continue to sleep against the one person who meant everything to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/2


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the spades! I have to say there aren't going to be too many chapters left of this and chances are - I'm gonna cliffhang you. Chances are high. I don't know yet honestly but I do know that by next year the sequel to Saving the Spade and to this will be beginning so look forward to it. Until then I leave you with this new chapter!
> 
> Translations:   
>  Fanculo!! Figlio di puttana!! Vattènne!! - Fuck! Son of a bitch! Leave!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

While true he would have liked to lie in bed and sleep next to Marco for as long as possible he knew he had to get up. Getting up and ready for the day however could have been done much more differently than what he awoke to. Standing in the door frame without a care in her mind, was Ymir. Her arms were over her chest as she was dressed in a black suit with a marmalade colored shirt beneath it open just a tad by her collarbones letting her tanned skin peek out. As always her lips were curled up in a grin that he did not like the looks of especially given that both he and Marco were naked beneath the blankets.

He rubbed his eyes and raised an index finger to Ymir in a "wait" gesture. Leaning over into Marco's embrace he reached up to run his fingers through Marco's hair and kiss his cheek. He knew that Marco was easy to wake on the occasion especially if it were him. Brushing the back of his fingers carefully over his cheek he hummed Marco's name.

"Marcooo," he called "time to wake up. You have a guest." Noticing how dark the room was aside from from the open door he figured it was fine for him to open his eyes. Ymir, however, decided Marco stirring in his sleep wasn't doing it. As he began to crack open his eyes she made several short strides to the windows and yanked back the curtains.

"Rise and shine, asshole!" She shouted with a smile. "We got shit to do today!"

Marco opened his eyes and reached his hand over his eye "Fanculo!! Figlio di puttana!! Vattènne!!"

Jean tossed his arms around his shoulders and shot a glare to Ymir _"Jesus,_ are you trying to blind him?!"

She shrugged her shoulders "Maybe. I knew it'd get him up a lot faster than whatever kind of coddling _you_ were doing."

"I do that so he doesn't get bitchy!!" Jean frowned as he shot back at her.

Right eye closed Marco looked at Ymir "If I get blinded then so do you." Pushing back to blankets he got out of bed and sauntered over the closet slowly as possible. Ymir groaned as she immediately shielded her eyes from Marco's naked body. Jean snickered as he walked out purposefully naked and tossed Jean a pair of boxers. Sliding them on beneath the blankets, he then crawled out of bed, and moved to kiss him as he tightened the clip on the back of Marco's eyepatch. Making retching sounds Ymir gagged and walked over to the doorway. Seeing it as a sense of victory he chuckled and finally opted to put on a pair of boxers and a thick, plush robe tying it around his waist.

"You done yet?" Ymir grumbled through gritted teeth.

Marco sighed "I suppose so. You're lucky Jean was in my way and I couldn't shoot you."

Smacking him on the shoulder Jean sighed "I agree she's a dick but it's no reason to shoot her."

"At least he's _kinda_ good for you. Aunt Camilla would be pissed if you put another hole in these walls. I wonder how many patches are from your trigger finger getting too happy?" Ymir grinned as she turned back.

While Jean decided to throw on a pair of Marco's sweats and a t-shirt Marco sighed "All have been repaired so well you can't tell anymore. As for Jean, well," he looked over his shoulder and smiled "he's the **best** thing to ever happen to me. What is it that you needed this early, Ymir?"

"Michelangelo sent me to wake you for breakfast. Krista is downstairs too so please, Marco," she sighed "dress in more than that."

"Fine, Jean, wanna go down in your pajamas?" Marco twisted to him to pose.

Recalling how he'd felt the other night at dinner he shook his head "Not particularly. Though I'd like a shower first, since we're pretty gross, or do we need to be there immediately?"

"Hmm, yes, I'd like one myself. I think I need to have these bandages changed as well," he held out a hand and looked to Ymir "so tell them I said to hold off until we make it down. I need to take all my medication as well."

Grumbling she rolled her eyes "Whatever, make it quick."

"Ymir," He stated flatly _"place."_

Another sigh before she caved and inclined her head  _"Yes, sir."_

When she left Marco turned to Jean stealing a kiss "Mmm, good morning, love."

Laying his head against Marco's right shoulder he hummed contentedly "Good morning, Marco. So...." looking up he smiled "why don't we go shower? I can help."

Quirked eyebrow Marco nodded "Hm, I bet you can, have you used my shower?"

"If you're asking if I can operate it the answer is yes. I did stay in this room--"

 _"Our_ room," he corrected gently.

Jean fought his blush as he corrected himself "I stayed in our room the first night but it felt wrong without you. After that I slept in the other room and after our argument."

"Alright then," he slipped his hand into Jean's and drug him to the bathroom as he dropped his robe "please be easy with me?" Jean pushed up on his toes to kiss him before searching out the dressings for Marco's wound he'd been told lied beneath the sink. As carefully as he could he began unwrapping the gauze around his chest and shoulder. He had to admit that it hurt him a bit to be seeing Marco like that, shaking ever so slightly as he removed the dressing, clenching his jaw to keep his mind off the pain.

Peeling back the direct covering over his incision he felt his stomach churn. His skin was obviously sutured together, bruised, and welted. Marco lifted a hand to his cheek as he saw the expression cross his face. He glanced up to smile before giving a short nod of his head and returning to his task. Cleaning the area with cleaned, gloved hands wasn't too hard but he heard the small gasp leave Marco's lips as he jerked forward. His stomach twisted again but he had to hurry and finish so they could get into the shower.

After placing a plastic cover over Marco's wound and his own the two stripped down. Marco dimmed the lights as he removed his eyepatch before stepping into the shower. Jean was at a disadvantage with the dimmed light but where one often faltered the other found a way to make up for it. A lazy shower filled with sweet acts of languidly washing one another's skin and hair had been exactly what he needed to wake up. The heat felt fantastic seeping into his achy body and he was able to lean against Marco when he wanted. That....and being wet and naked with him was just the cherry on the sundae.

When they finished he assisted Marco in drying off and removing his waterproof cover. He replicated the wrapping from earlier going round his chest and over his shoulder several times. Marco, of course, refused to wear a sling for it so he decided to suck it up and just make sure he took his medication before going to breakfast. Each of them moved to get dressed for the meeting. Jean wore his tailored suit from Giancarlo and Marco opted for his own as well, a black suit as always with faint cinnamon red pinstripes, a red vest and a tie while his eyepatch was that of a red embroidered spade.

The two spent a moment admiring how one another looked before heading downstairs. Of course Marco would want to make an entrance with Jean at his right side, arm hooked around his hip. He'd cleared his throat as they reached the bottom step of the winding staircase just before stepping off. Every eye in the area turned follow them and Jean began to stiffen under the scrupulous gazes from around the area. Marco patted his hand on his hip, tugging him in tighter, as if to remind him that he was there and there was nothing to be nervous of.

Letting his rigid posture relax a tad the two stepped down and walked into the kitchen. Camilla immediately turned to give them both kisses and hugs. Jean was still getting used to that and the bows as they entered the room. Marco stepped away from him and Jean had expected him to take his seat at the head of the table, as Michael had informed him was custom for them. Instead Marco stepped to stand at the right of the head of the table as Camilla stood to the left, across Marco. Ymir stood to Marco's left, Krista beside Camilla, and the line continued as everyone stepped in to figure their ranking leaving Jean standing more than confused at the head of the table.

Smiling Michael spoke from Ymir's side "The most powerful person sits at the head. Marco's announcing to everyone that you hold power over him and as such _you_ are the most powerful person in this room."

Eyes widening Jean began waving his hands in front of his chest "No, no no! It's not like that! Really! Camila holds power too and I'm--"

Krista giggled from her place before placing hand over her mouth "Sorry."

Jean shook his head "No, what?"

"It's just," she looked to Marco and to his mother before turning to Ymir "in all the years Marco's been seeing people he's never _once_ done this. It's apparently a tradition. Ymir told me about it when I took her place at Marco's side one evening about 2 years ago. It's a symbolism of the exchange of power; how someone can sway you when you're in love, how you put someone before yourself. Marco's just too much of an ass to ever admit that he never thought he would be in this position. All of us are a bit surprised to be honest." The gravity of the situation was beginning to settle in. Marco was basically telling his family, his officers, his friends, that Jean was more important than his own life. Why in the hell did he feel like crying? He could not, **would not,** cry in front of everyone at the table. Since Krista had spoken Marco cast his eyes down but Jean reached over and did the only thing he knew what to do.

"Marco Darien Bodt," he started flatly causing everyone to look at him, including Marco, with a sense of fear "I love you but I swear to god if you make me cry at this table I will kick your ass!"

Already seeing it well in his eyes Marco reached out and took his hand "Baby, everyone here knows that you and my mother hold different types of power over me. In the end my mother cannot force me to make choices. You can. You have. I'm admitting this once and only once to everyone. Tonight we'll switch back our places and you will be here but, for now, please accept what I'm telling my family. You are the most important person in my life. They need to see that as well. I love you, Jean, more than _anything_ in the world so just sit down please. We won't sit until you do." Jean blinked back the water crowding his eyes and decided to take his seat. Everyone bowed as he was seated and only followed after he was situated. He'd thought he felt odd before when people kissed him, now he had no idea what to do or how to act. Marco had admitted Jean was his weakness and strength by allowing his place at the head of the table...but that was just it...he didn't want to be Marco's weakness. He didn't want to have to rely on Marco like he had to in France. It was his fault. He couldn't protect himself and Marco had to suffer for it.

While everyone was speaking and he was having things translated he found that once again he'd felt home. This place, with these people, and this environment, he was sure he was home now. Never once had been in a place to feel so comfortable, accepted for who he was, but most of all at the center of it he felt loved. That love was something he was going to make sure no one would ever take from him. Around him sat killers, various forms of other criminals, and he couldn't ignore that he'd killed people, he'd taken lives for Marco's safety.

That was an exchange he'd be willing make no matter what. All of those people had been killers too. As far as he had to rationalize it to himself he was protecting himself and Marco, but the time had come to stop that thought process. He decided right then he'd not be someone Marco needed to protect, he'd be someone who could protect Marco in return. With his injury he wasn't able to be as fast, as precise, as dangerous as before. It was about time Jean finally made up for the final falter of Marco's: he needed to learn to be his left hand.

Breakfast had been fantastic but, as all good things do, it had to come to an end. Marco instructed Jean to be the first to rise from his seat when he wished to dismiss everyone, even telling him the command for dismissal in Italian which he didn't even try to pronounce for fear of butchering it. Marco had pressed a kiss to his cheek with his immense thanks and sorrow. He had to spend the day doing as Jean asked and working on things. Nero's funeral would be held on Friday and afterwards the meeting with the families would take place.

There was a list of tasks a mile long that Marco had to fill out and so Jean left him to it. It felt a bit strange that he be left alone to do as he wished in such a large manner. Krista too, however, had been left as Ymir went on her merry way with Marco. Both seemed to have the same idea. After breakfast the two decided to wash the dishes given that Camilla had cooked for them. She'd not been surprised by Krista's actions but Jean's seemed to have just tickled her. As she spoke Krista was laughing, clearly understanding.

"She says you're a good man, Jean. Kind. Sweet. Caring. How Marco wound up with you and she didn't she's a little upset over haha," Krista nudged him as they continued to wash.

Calling over his shoulder he smiled "I was raised by a man who was not blood but should have been. He was our families steward and I often did this for him as well. My mother never wanted much to do with me, my father never wanted anything to do with me unless it was for news cameras, and so Jon raised me. I was taught manners and how to be chivalrous. Since you cooked for us all, Camilla, it's only right for us to do something."

Before Camilla finished Krista chuckled "Incoming gush alert."

With his sleeves rolled up and his hands still in the water Camilla rushed over to him, kissing his cheeks and hugging him "AH!"

"The just is that now you have a mother who isn't, excuse me, a fucking bitch who deserves many details of gruesome torture. Now you have her and she loves you. The woman is crazy, Jean, but she's right," Krista piped in for him as Camilla squeezed him tighter.

He just nodded "Well, I love you guys too. You had to be amazing to raise Marco as the man he is. Now, speaking of....I have a favor to ask of you." Camilla titled her head and Krista was on standby ready to translate. "I know you cook everything from scratch and I was wondering if you could teach me? I can cook really well and I know Marco loves your cooking so when go back to the states for a bit I wanna be able to surprise him."

Krista snickered "Haha, you fucking nerd. Look at you. _Gah._ You're so sweet it rots my teeth! Anyhow she said she'd love to teach you since she always wanted to teach her daughter but she got Marco who can't even boil water."

Jean stared at Camilla blankly as she laughed hysterically "Wait....Marco _can't_ cook?"

Even Krista almost busted a gut she was laughing so hard "Are you kidding?! Marco Bodt cook?! Do you _want_ to die?! Oh my god, Jean, he's so bad the dork burns water. He can't do anything and **not** from anyone's lack of trying to teach him, he's just, he's inherently bad. He burnt an oven mitt!"

"Hahaha! That's hilarious but also sad. My poor baby. Guess I better learn, but I wanna keep it a secret from him, and there's something else," pausing to gain his breath he turned to Krista "but Krista I need your help with that."

"What's that?" She asked curiously.

Swallowing his fear of asking he exhaled slowly "I need to learn to defend myself and I also need to get better with a pistol."

Eyes widening Krista blinked slowly "I--I, uh, Jean....do you think Marco--"

"I don't care what he thinks," Jean interrupted "I'm tired of feeling like I have to rely on him for everything. In France, it shouldn't have been Marco that got shot. He took that bullet for me and I had no idea what to do or how to do anything. He felt like it was the only choice he had....I just...I don't want that again. Where I falter he picks up the slack and right now Marco can't operate at 100% so I need to pick up his. I need to be able to defend myself so he doesn't have to. Standing at his side means being able to take anything that can be thrown at me. I need to be able to defend him too."

Agreeing, Krista nodded "I get it. I do. I remember what happened in France Jean. I was down there, I saw it. You have an ability to tap into but the adrenaline is what your body used to push you to that state so we'd have to push you just as hard. Spade training is not easy, Jean, make no doubt, but if you want to learn I think Ymir and I can help you. Ymir's pretty good with a firearm but she hardly ever uses it, I have a knife, but there's two people better than any of us and that's Levi and Marco. Neither of us can still land a hit on either of them but Marco can land one on Levi. If you really want to get good, Marco's going to have to be the one to teach you."

"Well," Jean took a deep breath "let me at least learn with you guys before I tell him. I don't want him stressing and I don't want him too worried about me."

"Okay, listen, I can start you today if you want. There's a place on the compound for these kinda things. Just finish dishes, get into something comfortable and meet me downstairs. Camilla said she'll start you on learning how make things before dinner so you've got a busy day Jean." And indeed he did. He'd not expected Krista to be so willing to help him but he supposed he should have. She was basically his family now too. After the dishes were done he hugged her and did as she asked, going to change into a pair of Marco's sweatpants and a workout shirt he knew would cling to his skin. Thankfully Marco did workout so tennis shoes were thankfully there and they were only a half-size big which was next to nothing.

Upon heading downstairs he noticed Krista had yet to change out of her pastel yellow sundress and flats. He was a bit concerned as to what she was going to be teaching him dressed like that. No matter, he did as she asked and followed out to the back of the house. Much to his surprise the entire place was fenced in with multiple outbuildings scattered from end to end. Jean didn't know, nor could he speculate, what the buildings were for except one. Krista led him up to a tan, mocha shingled building with 3 rooms. As he entered he noticed the hardwood flooring had been stained, by blood spray. This already did not bode well.

The first room was very wide with mirrors lining the wall in front of him. It almost reminded him of the dance studio but he definitely knew better. Judging by the blood on the walls and floor he likely gauged it was a training room. He was led into the room adjacent from the first on the right. There was no mistaking the second room's use: a shooting range. Targets were on lines strung from the ceiling on one side while the other was obviously used for knives judging by all the holes. The room to it's left waws vastly different. Mats lied atop the floor in windowless room and up the walls by 5 or 6 foot in the room. It was there Krista stopped and slipped off her shoes, instructing him to do the same.

Obeying he took his shoes off and looked to the wooden table Krista had placed her shoes on doing the same "So what's going on?"

With a snicker she slid her hand up her inner thigh causing him to look away "Oh please, relax," she responded and pulled a syringe from a hidden belt "you never got to talk with me too much or anyone in the organization. All of us are different card suits for different reasons. Spades are firearms specialists, Diamonds are the demolitions, Clubs are mostly hand to hand physical stuff, and Hearts are internal warfare. Get it? It's all a nice little funny ha ha to remember."

Jean nodded slowly before asking "So, you're the Queen of Hearts and you fight internally? What's that mean? I saw you use something to knock out the guard at the security firm."

Twisting the syringe in her fingers she grinned "It means, what's in this could wipe out the whole city. I'm an actress and I carry things like this. Ymir is my backup, my secondary, and she often carries a blade for me as well as helps me grift. My thing, Jean, my specialty is that I carry diseases and poisons. I fight insanely _dirty."_

"Holy shit, so you're like, toxic," Jean stared with wide eyes watching as she detached a leather belt from around her thigh.

"Quite literally," she snickered "though as an actress I have to be able to protect myself too. I didn't want Ymir having to protect me all the time so I taught her my secrets and she taught me hers."

"What exactly is your story, Krista?" Jean asked with intrigue.

She sighed and shrugged "Not much. My father was a very powerful politician, not unlike yours, and he was abusive. I was running away at a very young age......after I killed him. I found Ymir and I found everyone. Like I said, not much but I had to do something so I stole a lot of things and my acting got really good before I found home."

"It's almost like everyone who's lost ends up here," Jean chuckled "kinda funny that way. So, what about the Spades? Marco's a spade."

"Yeah, our own personal Neverland. Marco is a spade because he's one of the best with firearms but he's also the best for up close with blades. He and Levi are fundamentally the same with a few key differences. Both are blade proficient but if you ask me who's better it's Marco hands down, Levi wins on sniping because of Marco's light abnormality but they're both good, pistols are Marco no doubt, information gathering is Levi for sure, though torture is a tie, and Levi is more likely to prefer long distance if he doesn't need information because it's not messy and it's quick. Marco likes dirty. He likes gruesome and he likes up close because it's a challenge and he thrives in darkness. So, the _Spades_ are the ones you don't want to be anywhere near."

He'd never heard of Marco being described like that. Picking apart his abilities and his strengths was almost frightening. He had to do this though and he needed to know who would be the best to teach him but it seemed like Marco was. Not wanting to tell him for fear of him trying to keep him from doing, Jean didn't exactly want to go him. If he waited a bit maybe Marco would understand and decide to teach him one thing at least. Oh well. He had to make it through hell training apparently first before any of that would even remotely relevant.

"What exactly am I doing then today?"

"You're gonna learn how to dodge this needle."

"I, uh, I'm sorry?!" Jean practically wheezed at the answer.

She giggled and rolled her eyes "No real threat here. There's nothing in it except a little compound that's basically harmless. You're going to learn how to defend yourself with basic moves and try to disarm me." He was worried by that playful, almost carefree, tone in her words. Krista was not exactly an opponent that he felt like he should be trying to defend against. If she was coming at him with a needle he didn't exactly know how to disarm her or how to remotely go about anything if he was honest. He was a bit scared for them both but before he could voice a concern she stepped forward wielding the hypodermic with her thumb already on the plunger. His eyes were watching the needle before it was lost in the flurry of her motions.

Unfortunately he learnt the first step was to watch their motion yet pay attention to their body language. Subtle things from the direction of someone's toes to how they swing out their arm could tell him how they were going to move next. Krista was a good teacher, a harsh teacher, but definitely more than he'd have initially given her credit for. He learnt the hard way that Krista did not fuck around and when she said training would be hard, she meant it. He didn't think it would involve him being injected by some compound that felt like she'd injected acid into his veins. At first he couldn't tell that she had even gotten the needle under his skin but after a second he'd felt his entire right arm light up like a southern bonfire.

Krista informed him it was nothing harmful but it was enough to register when he'd lost. She'd given him the benefit of the doubt with his thigh but it was healing rather nicely, already sure to leave behind a gnarly scar in it's wake, and didn't affect his range of movement much. With enough of a handicap given he'd thought he'd be much better, turns out, Krista was just screwing with him. Her plan had never been to go easy on him at all. In the moment he learnt that he stared up at her as she just grinned mischievously telling him that life isn't fair and no one who means to kill him is going to be taking it easy on him and he shouldn't be worried about hurting her.

Jean decided then to sink in everything he had into training with her. He gave up acting like she was fragile because of her size and used his full force. Even with all his, lack of, ability she'd managed to knock him off his feet, put him on his back, or slam him to the ground far too many times for his liking. Her training was hard, yes, but ultimately effective. Getting shown the flaws, the chinks, in his armor and all his missteps Jean was able to get a firmer grip on how to defend himself. If he knew the areas to defend he would be able to focus on them.

By the next Friday he'd already gotten better to the point of not having been stabbed by her at all and managing to disarm her more than a few times. It had given his confidence a magnificent boost to the point of putting a smile on his face when training came. Spending hours able to stand toe to toe with her was outstanding but more so was her praise. Aside from his training, and his school work, his cooking time with Camilla had also in fact provided him with a sense of joy. Camilla had since taught him how to make pasta from scratch, which was messy but rather fun, as well as some of Marco's favorite dishes. It was fun having something to fill his days with as Marco stayed busy most days but even more fun to know once they went home he could surprise him by cooking for him.

Sure, his days were draining and by the time Marco got back up to the room the two were both just ready to sleep but it was worth it. The only time the two seemed to be able to share was sleeping, showering in the morning, and dressing Marco's wounds. He'd fought to hide his bruises, the scratches, the scrapes, the sore muscles, and pounding headache that came from landing too hard then from Marco. He'd seen Marco glance worriedly at him out of the corner of his eye but neither said anything and let it go swiftly. A nurse had been monitoring Marco and changing his dressings in the afternoon when he was busy but before bed and before breakfast it was Jean's job. While true they got minimal time together that didn't matter so long as he ended and began the day by waking up next to Marco.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next bit to this fic and I must say that the end will be approaching rapidly after this but I have yet to write that so I may take a week off next week from this fic and try to write out some more of it! If I do that however it does mean that I will repay you guys with a second chapter on the next update! Enjoy some emotional Marco and Badass Jean.
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Friday morning however carried with it a different tone. Marco and Jean rolled out of bed without so much to say between them aside from a simple good morning and a kiss. A lot needed to be done in a rather short period of time so while Marco was showering Jean was perusing the closet for a black on black suit for both he and Marco. With Marco being the person who drew the most attention he knew he had to be sure he was dressed well as people would be looking at the two of them. Once he laid everything out on the bed for the both of them he pushed open the bathroom door and barged into Marco's shower. Of course Marco chuckled and accepted his intrusion as he had every morning.

When the two exited the shower and dried off Jean set to dressing his wounds which were beginning to not turn his stomach quite as much as before due to their healing. Jean finished and for once Marco agreed to let himself be presented in the sling he was given. Even Jean knew the full weight of Marco's arm by his side caused him pain so he knew the sling would be best for him anyhow. He assisted Marco with getting dressed and ready for the funeral making sure that he was dressed to the teeth with not a single thing out of place. His aura was already swirling with authoritative sophistication, something Jean wasn't sure he knew how to replicate but nonetheless tried anyway. 

Marco insisted he carry the customary chrysanthemums to which he obliged but refused to wear an insignia ring Marco tried to give him. At no point did he want to look like he was the family property. Instead, Marco slid his own ring off his index finger and pushed it onto Jean's though it was a bit too loose. Apparently he needed to look like he was Marco's, and Marco's ring would prove it. The familiar calligraphic M was a platinum etching into an onyx and ruby studded ring. Marco's was the only one that wasn't completely ostentatious as it was a thin onyx band while most the others were squared, obnoxious attention seekers. 

By wearing Marco's ring it showed much more than anything else however Jean wasn't much for jewelry not secured to his body through his skin. Knowing that, Marco began to dig through the closet until he found what he was looking for. Returning with a silver chain he slid the ring from Jean's finger and hung it from the chain before securing it around Jean's neck. Glancing down Jean looked at the ring and over to Marco with a hint of puzzlement. 

"This way it won’t fall off and everyone knows who you are," Marco stated calmly as if reading his mind.

Jean thumbed over the ring carefully before meeting Marco's gaze "Thank you. I'm only wearing it for the funeral right?"

He shrugged his shoulders "Don't know. Up to you I guess. Might get in the way of your _ training _ though so I advise you leave it here when you go out to the compound."

Eyes bulging Jean stood frozen as his mouth gaped "I-I..How--"

_ "Really?"  _ Marco deadpanned. "I'm a highly skilled assassin and criminal. This place has so many cameras it might as well be a movie set. Not many are in the house but most are in the compound. You didn't wonder why I didn't ask about your lethargy from expending all your energy, your new various bruises from poorly dodged girl fists, the band-aids over the tiny pinpricks you bled from when Krista got you with a needle, or something as simple as the way you look at me now. I see it in your eyes Jean, you've changed in just a little while and I'm concerned."

Pinching the bridge of his nose Jean huffed and sat on the bed "Listen, I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think I was being stupid, Marco. That's all."

Kneeling in front of him Marco shook his head "I wouldn't think training to learn to defend yourself is stupid Jean."

"That's just the thing," he cupped his cheek and smiled "I'm not learning to just defend myself. I was going to ask when I had gotten a lot better at it, but Marco, I want you to teach me to use a pistol."

Eye blinking slowly Marco got to his feet and looked over to him "Jean....now I'm  _ more _ concerned than I was all last week. Why do you want that?"

"Because," he rose to his feet and stood in front of Marco determination setting his jaw "I don't want you to have to protect me. I'm your boyfriend Marco and we both know that where one us is weak the other is strong. That's just how we work but I can't even begin to tell you how I feel knowing that you're hurt. I know you can tell me you're a big, bad killer all day everyday but it still won't change that I know you're weaker this way. I want to make up for what you lost and be able to defend both of us if it has to come to that again."

Marco had no thoughts, no words formed in his mouth as he stared at Jean. He knew that he was right. The argument "it wouldn't ever come to that" was invalid as it already had. Ultimately Jean saved his life that day and he knew it but to ask this of him placed him in an odd place. On one hand he knew if he did teach him he would end up hurting them both physically on the other hand it would be good for Jean to know and he seemed to have possessed an innate ability.

After a moment Marco lowered his head "Fine. I'll teach you. I'll put you through my training, and I'll try to not hurt you, but I'm warning you, no one has  _ ever _ called me a nice teacher. I've taught some of our men and most ask that they are able to respectfully pick someone else. Only one man ever got through my training."

Curious, Jean had to ask "Who?"

Feeling a pull in his chest Marco chuckled bitterly, hearing the pained twinge in his own voice "Nero. I was 18 and taught him quite a bit before I left. He was best suited for control and he shared some of my blood. It was only fitting that someone who'd been in the family legitimately take over instead of the bastard child. Some people didn't see it that way but the two of us were quick to form our friendship no matter the almost 10 year age gap. He never treated me like a child, only an equal, just learnt and did as I asked."

Wrapping Marco in a hug Jean laid his head against his chest "Today is hard for you isn't it? Don't worry I'll be right beside you."

Squeezing him tightly Marco dropped his head to his shoulder "It is though it may not look it. Thank you, Jean."

"No need to thank me. Where you're weak I'm strong and I'll be here no matter what when you need me," he reminded him gently. “You can’t be strong _ forever _ , Marco.”

Marco nodded and raised his hand to thumb over Jean's cheek "I appreciate that. Now," after stepping back from him Marco adjusted his tie for him and smiled "we better get going. Nero never appreciated tardiness." As his expression hardened again Jean stiffened his posture and slung on his blazer before exiting the room with Marco at his side. They reached the foot of the stairs and were met by Camilla, Ymir, Krista, and Michael. Each were dressed exquisitely, as to be expected of them, in various forms of black. Jean gave them a warm smile as he and Marco stepped down and went out to the cars. Michael was to drive Camilla, Marco, and he while Ymir and Krista were to ride in a different vehicle.

Among them there was no chatter just the solemn, unpleasant feeling lingering on the stale air. Due to the ambient silence Jean leaned against Marco as the ride prolonged hoping that he would at least relax. He didn't. Marco was just as rigid and stiff as he'd been upon getting into the car. It was strange to see the side of Marco when they were alone, it was normally only present when they were in public. After a moment he realized that this was probably not the first brother in arms that Marco had lost and that it was perhaps a coping mechanism for him. 

Forty-five minutes later they were arriving to a small church. It was clear to Jean they were no longer inside Florence. A basic white and tan building stood among rolling hills and darkened skies. Even the world, it seemed, was aware of the atmosphere presiding over them. Rain was on the horizon and they'd all known it but it seemed no one cared, not even when it had began a gentle drizzle. The crowd attending the funeral began to grow by numbers bringing umbrellas just in case the weather took a turn. Soon Jean was well aware there was no way all of them were going to fit into the cozy church. 

The time before the funeral service actively began two men holding their posture as Marco's approached him. At first they lowered their heads to Marco and he'd allowed them to kiss his cheeks before returning the favor. It was obvious to Jean that these men were of a station to be respected otherwise Marco wouldn't have allowed them to touch him nor would have responded in kind. In a moment they looked to Jean who straightened his posture and lowered his head. Marco smiled and said something in Italian to cause them to bow to him. He'd frozen a moment as they kissed his cheeks.

Marco chuckled and informed them that Jean was American and not used to being in his current station. Jean huffed and reached up to tighten the clasp on the back of his eyepatch as it was starting to slip. The men in front of them laughed a bit while Marco raised a middle finger and allowed Jean to finish before speaking. Most of his conversations were in Italian but it didn't take a scholar to realize that the closest family Nero had was Marco. Everyone was approaching to give their various forms of sympathy to Marco and Jean stood silently by his side while he held the chrysanthemums.

When it was time for the funeral to begin Jean and Marco were seated beside Camilla, Ymir, and Krista on the first pew along with Marco's capo. Of course Jean was completely lost through the funeral due to the Italian. He didn't care to have any one translate for him as it would not only be rude but unnecessary. He was aware of how good of a man Nero was. During Marco's eulogy Jean listened, watching intently as he carried his head high and spoke carefully, respectfully. Jean didn't need to be able to understand Italian to be able to hear him almost choking on his words. Clearly Camilla heard it too as he grabbed Jean's hand, squeezing it tightly, as tears streamed down her face. Krista was leaned against Ymir's shoulder who kept her chin up and her eyes forward.

To Jean everyone seemed to hold their composure well but it wasn't hard to tell who was crumbling. Everyone in the room had lost a friend, a leader, a member of their family. With everyone being a part of the organizations they were it was no doubt that it would probably be seen as a weakness to cry, Jean however felt that was vastly far off from the truth. Looking at Marco as he stepped down from the podium he could practically see it in his eyes, the held back tears, but knew to not say anything. Instead he simply allowed him to retain his composure.

As one of the pallbearers Marco was supposed to go with the other heads of the families. Marco looked down at his arm and clenched his jaw. Even Marco knew that his injury would prevent him from doing his job so Jean instead rose to his feet. Before he could object Jean kissed Marco's temple, left him with the flowers, and moved off to the casket lowering his head to the other men standing by it. They gave him a pat on the shoulder before lifting the casket and leading the procession outside. It was still raining, much harder, but none seemed to find a care for it. After all, a little rain wasn't going to hurt and Jean did his job to the best of his ability during the downpour. He made it back to Marco to stand as his side as they concluded the funeral.

He'd given Marco's hand a squeeze staring up at his umber eye "Hey. Why don't we get out of the rain?"

Marco shook his head "I'm alright here." He'd paused for a moment searching himself before asking Jean "Would you give me a minute?"

"Whatever you need," he replied softly. Jean gave him a soft kiss and headed towards the car with Michael and Camilla. He was giving Marco his space while everyone dispersed quietly. While they had been waiting at the car Camilla was drying her tears beneath their shared umbrella as Jean was trying to his best to console her. The service had been beautiful and he knew that she was half crying for it and half for her loss. There were some people approaching Camilla to speak with her for a few minutes about how she was doing but for Jean it could have been an hour. Without Marco he felt rather odd being there but just as he began to think that the sound of crunching gravel sounded nearby.

Turning around he'd spied Marco approaching them. Marco had nodded without so much as a single word and they got into the car to drive back to the estate. It was unlike Marco to be so distant or almost cold as he sat next to Jean. He began to grow a bit concerned as he found Marco to be focusing his attention out the car window. He'd looked almost lost in his own mind. Normally it wouldn't have seemed so off aside from the fact that he'd not said a single word, nor touched him at all, since he'd come back from Nero's grave. On the ride back Jean began to grow increasingly worried. This was not like Marco.

Upon their arrival back home they all sat around the dining table for lunch. A toast was raised to Nero and those were the only words Marco had spoken the entire time, not to mention he'd barely eaten anything, then he'd excused himself to his study. No one had seemed to mention the odd behavior. Jean, however, was not going to dismiss that. Something was wrong and he knew that Nero's loss was probably weighing much heavier than it seemed but Jean couldn't let it slide by without comment. 

After eating and thanking Camilla for lunch he excused himself. While leaving the table he was sure to mention that no one was to disturb him or Marco for the next 2 hours unless they wanted to be bitched at or worse. He'd been given several nods before skulking off down to Marco's study. He knew he wouldn't be able to sneak up on Marco or surprise him but he wanted to try to be as quiet as possible. Once he'd made it to the study door he knocked softly on the door. Marco's voice instructing him to come back later was going to go ignored.

Disobeying the order he pushed open the door only to be plunged into darkness "Even if it's me?"

Looking up from his desk Marco's eyes found him, brows knitting as he sighed "Jean? Is something wrong?"

Closing the door behind him he moved to walk behind his desk brushing his hair past his ear "You tell me."

Eyes widening Marco looked up to him "I...What do you mean, Jean?"

With a huff he wiggled past Marco's legs to sit in his lap with his legs folded beneath him "Look at me." He reached out to lift Marco's chin "Something is wrong with you and you aren't telling me. I'm _ worried,  _ Marco."

Securing his right arm behind him to keep him in the chair Marco searched the topaz eyes in front of him "I'm alright. You don't have to be worried."

"No, you're not," Jean retorted quickly "you're not okay and I  _ should  _ be worried." Placing both hands on the sides of his face Jean kissed him and scowled "I love you, remember? From when you act as stubborn as a mule to when you're being an ass. Right now, I can tell that something is bothering you and I want you to tell me. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that Nero's funeral sucker punched you." At being called out Marco stared back at Jean with bewilderment unable to say anything while Jean continued. "If you're upset, if you need time alone, if you need me to do something, anything, I will but you need to tell me what's going on."

Dropping his head to Jean's shoulder Marco suddenly brought him flush to his body "I'm upset, I'm angry, and I'm tearing myself apart sitting here hoping that by some miracle Nero walks back through that door."

Placing a hand at the back of his neck Jean kneaded his fingers into Marco's hair "I'm sorry, Marco. I am. Just tell me everything, okay?"

As he urged him to speak Jean felt Marco's fingers clench his shirt tightly "Don't be sorry. You didn't know him well, it's okay. I just....Jean, Nero was like my brother. Sure, he was a pain in my ass when he tried to get me to do my job but he was the first person in my life to see me as an equal instead of some heir. I learnt how to run this family and all our businesses thanks to him. Nero is the only reason I grew up with emotion, Jean. Without him I would have allowed my life to take over without so much as a care. You might have thought my mother would keep it from happening but my love for her was never in question. Everyone else would have been cut out of my life, I probably would have been far more ruthless and coldhearted without him."

In that moment Jean heard a catch in Marco's throat "Marco....you're not coldhearted. You miss a man who was your family, who left a lasting impact on your life. It's okay to be distraught and don't you dare tell me it's weak. I know you believe that emotion gets you killed and expressing them makes you weak, but it doesn't. A man who is honest with himself and his emotions is  _ far  _ stronger than one who hides them."

"I miss him Jean," Marco whispered into his chest, voice cracking as he struggled for breath "I miss him screaming at me to do my paperwork, telling me to go make rounds, or telling me I'm behaving like a spoilt brat. No longer can I walk in and see him roll his eyes when I neglect and shirk my responsibilities because I don't want to do it. Dinners without him are strange and foreign. Everything feels so wrong. He was like my boss but, even if he didn't know it, he was my brother first."

Before he could confirm the fact Marco was crying the door opened behind him. Jean's anger flared but mostly his will to protect Marco kicked in. No one else but his mother ever got to see Marco like this and right now he'd be damned if anyone else would. Knowing Marco kept a loaded pistol under his desk he blindly reached for it and pulled the slide back aiming it towards the grunt who'd opened the door. The scent wafting off the man was repugnant and not easily mistaken with anyone else while his heavy footsteps had given way to his position. With those factors registering much quicker in his head than it seemed he fired a shot through the man's foot hearing the shrill scream and sharp yowl of pain.

Jean's voice flattened, softening in volume as he sat the pistol on the desk "What part of do not fucking disturb me do you not understand?  **Get out."**

Michael was rushing towards the door as he'd heard the gunshot ring throughout the house "Jean, Marco--"

Eyes dulled to darkening amber Jean looked to Michael "We're fine. See to it that the daft gentleman who can't follow directions gets that foot looked at." As Michael nodded and moved to shut the door Jean looked back over his shoulder "Oh, and make sure they all understood when I said do not fucking disturb us. In fact, we're not to be disturbed  _ all day. _ Understand me?"

Straightening his posture Michael lowered his head "Yes, sir." Once the door was shut Jean pushed back against the chair so he could hug Marco tighter. For a few moments he could feel Marco's chest heaving as he struggled to regulate his breathing through his sobs. All Jean did was kiss the crown of his head and run his fingers through his hair gently as he allowed him to cry out his earlier emotion that he'd withheld for so long. Seeing him so vulnerable, so emotionally weak, so strained: this was Marco baring his soul to him. He trusted him enough to drop all guards and so Jean consoled him to the best of his abilities.

When his breathing softened Jean whispered "Sorry, I hope your ears are alright."

Looking up from his chest Marco shook his head "I'm fine. I'm used to that sound you know."

Even in the dull light making it harder to see, there was no mistaking the trail of shine on the left side of Marco's face, his red eye, or puffy cheeks "You're not okay, Marco, not right now. You will be though. You can cry on me all you want I promise no one else will ever see you like this if you don't want them to."

Burying his face back into him Marco chuckled "Why you gonna shoot 'em?"

"I might," Jean stated seriously "what I say is **just** as much as an order as yours. Plus, I'll shoot  _ anyone _ to protect you."

Marco squeezed him "Thank you and you're right," he paused and dropped his tone "they should respect you.... I don't think I can do anything else today."

Jean freed himself of his grasp and slid off his lap tugging his wrist "Then let’s go lie down upstairs." Obeying, Marco got to his feet. Just as he was going to wipe the tears from his face Jean wiped them away with a simple brush of his thumb. Marco smiled softly and grabbed his pistol as they walked out of the room, placing it in the back of his pants. Without a word uttered to them the two headed down the hall and up the stairs with Jean leading the way. Eyes followed them but mouths stayed clamped shut until they made into the bedroom. 

Once inside the bedroom Marco removed his coat and sat it onto the desk chair. Both kicked off their shoes and moved to lie on the bed though it was Marco who was laying against Jean's chest instead of their usual. Jean just silently laid his head against Marco's and relaxed before a question came into his mind.

"Hey," he called softly "can I ask something?"

"Anything," Marco replied almost instantaneously. 

"Does your tear duct work on your right eye?" Jean asked hesitantly. 

Marco shook his head "Nope. Never has. Can I tell you something?"

"Interesting," he mused. "Sure, you can tell me anything."

"It kinda turned me on when you shot that idiot."

"Are you serious?"

"Entirely. Demanding your respect. Feeling the need to protect my weakness. I swear I could have come undone in that seat when you ordered them around." 

"Wow, Marco." Jean tugged at his hair when he met his bi-colored gaze "I can't believe you...although I should.... I just did it without thinking honestly. No one deserves to get to see you emotionally vulnerable but  _ me _ . They also need to understand that I am  _ worse  _ than you when they push me."

Marco kissed him, tugging at his bottom lip "Mmhmm. You are quite a force to be reckoned with Jean Kirschtein. Were you aiming for his foot?"

Jean averted his gaze "I was, uh, aiming for about mid-shin but the foot wasn't too bad."

"Sure, let's go with that," he added with a playful jest "I'll train with you tomorrow if you want."

"Okay, just don't make fun of me then. The only issue now is what do with the time we have." 

"I just wanna lie here. With you."

"Sounds good to me. What time is your meeting?"

"8, so we have a good bit of time to relax.....I could go for a nap but we haven't spent much time together."

"We could nap and it would be spending time together. I'm pretty wiped myself."

Glancing up to him Marco smiled "Then I guess we'll be napping....but you know if you want to spend some time together I can bring you to the meeting."

"Really?" Jean reciprocated his smile with a wider one "I'd like to see what you do and be there to support you."

"And shoot someone if I need you to?" Marco chuckled sarcastically.

Jean narrowed his eyes "Yeah, maybe  _ you. _ " Pausing, Jean had to ask "Why did you grab the pistol from the study?"

Remembering it, Marco leaned back to remove it and sit it on the side table "I grabbed it to clean it later." Wry grin on his face Marco brought him forward to kiss him "If you could shoot  _ me  _ I'd fuck you on whatever surface was nearest."

Confused, Jean stared at him blankly "I'm sorry? Why?"

"Because _ no one  _ can shoot me....well normally. That'd mean you'd have to have some amazing skill," Marco confessed.

With a kiss to his temple Jean sighed "You're a hot mess, Marco. It turns you on  _ that  _ badly when I have a pistol in my hand?"

"Incredibly," Marco purred "but it does still worry me that I'm losing my sweet, innocent boy."

"The moment I thought I lost you was the moment he died Marco," Jean stated flatly. "Coming to terms with the fact I killed people was hard, okay, it was. Realizing I did it to protect you though was easy, wanting to stand by your side as an equal instead of a charge was easier, and the choice to want to continue to be able to protect you was easiest."

Marco kissed him, surprising him a bit "I love you, Jean. I understand your want to no longer be a Spade charge, I get that, but are you sure you want this in the long run? I mean, a lot of things change when you take a life."

"They've already changed Marco. I've changed for the better when I found someone more important than myself to protect. Yeah, I can use it to defend myself as well but staying by you is a choice I made and will make every single day for the rest of my life. Standing by you means I'm target, you told me that, so I'm gonna make sure that I'm one hell of a hard target to hit. With you out of commission for your arm you'll be a target too, especially after tonight, so I need to be able to protect us both." Jean pulled him closer and kissed him again, staring back into his eyes with a soft smile.

Knowing he'd lost Marco sighed and kissed the tip of his nose "God, I love you. You're the  _ worst." _

Jean wrinkled his nose as Marco kissed him "Mhmm, both the worst and the best. You just don't know because you've never had to love to someone like me." 

"Uh huh, whatever, Jean. Can't we just sleep for a bit?" He snarked.

Shrugging his shoulders Jean caved "Sure, I'll set an alarm." Jean grabbed his phone from the bedside table and typed in an alarm for 6pm. The two were going to miss dinner but Camilla would probably be sure to make sure they ate at least at some point. Until then Jean would simply enjoy being with Marco. The progress he'd made had just gone to show Jean just how much Marco trusted him. One of his weaknesses, at least what Marco viewed as his weakness, had been shown in front of him and that was huge. Jean felt like Marco was showing everything and he couldn't ask for more.

With his fingers in his hair and listening to him breathe slowly Jean knew Marco had already fallen asleep. To be fair it had been a rough day for him already and he didn't mind watching over him as he slept. It was kinda cute to watch him sleep as he mumbled something and drew himself closer to Jean. In response Jean tightened his hold around him, turning just slightly on his side as to allow Marco to nuzzle into his chest as he often did to Marco. Allowing himself to fall asleep as he held Marco wasn't easy, he wanted to preserve the moment, but ultimately his body decided sleep was of far greater importance. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH, AH! I did a thing! I finished this story -finally- I know. It's been forever since it started and I'm sorry y'all xD But now that the story has been finished it means it will update biweekly on Thursdays as well and in honor of it's completion (putting the Saving the Spade direct sequel closer to being formed) I'm updating you with two chapters! I hope you'll enjoy the new look of our favorite freckled assassin. 
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠
> 
> Finocchio - Derogatory, English equivalent to faggot.

Jean woke before Marco and just a few minutes before his alarm had gone off. He decided then to just close his eyes and enjoy watching over Marco for a bit. How his life had changed so drastically in just a short span of time was ridiculous. Never could he have imagined this is what his life would lead him to. A path with twists and turns, ups and downs, corkscrews, and horseshoes was met with a bi-colored gaze at the end of it. Now that he had it he knew there was no other way it should be. Laying there with Marco against him, sleeping so soundly, looking so perfectly flawed....this was a life he chose. This was a life he was never going to give up.

As he stared down at that gorgeous face he ran his fingers delicately over his skin. Up his jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest his fingertips fluttered so softly over his body. He was lost in Marco as he so often was. At times his mind still frazzled at looking at him. So beautiful but far more deadly. It was like taming a wild animal. Were he to discipline him too strictly he would fight back but with enough love, hope, and faith along with a nurturing, yet firm, guiding hand he would be shown the same compassion. Marco would never hurt him. He knew that. Everyone knew that.

The question however on everyone's mind was if Jean would be the one to bite the feeding hand. As far as Marco's family knew Jean was just some stray boy Marco picked up in the US. His displays showed more than that but he knew it would be naive to think everyone believed in him. Some people would be skeptical and he knew that. Jean, however, knew that their opinions of him didn't matter. He expected some backlash but only Marco mattered. If anyone doubted his loyalties he would quickly remind them where they lied be it family or no.

Laying there thinking of how his night was going to go, Marco interrupted him "I can smell your brain smoking."

Chuckling, Jean leaned to press a kiss to his cheek "Mmm, well I was just thinking."

"Way too hard," Marco grumbled.

Jean slid down until he was nose to nose with Marco "Perhaps....but maybe, just maybe, it was something..... _interesting."_

Opening his eyes Marco quirked a brow "You always know how to catch my attention."

"Anything vaguely sexual, violent, or about me?" Jean smirked.

"I suppose," Marco offered "but I'd pay attention to whatever it is you had to say. What time is it?"

Marco rubbed his eyes and turned on his back as Jean picked up his phone "Ugh, time to get up."

"Damn," he groaned "I was hoping to have some time before the meeting. Guess we had better get up and get out of these funeral clothes." Jean rolled atop him and placed a kiss at the tip of his nose before completely crawling off the bed. Without use of both arms completely he was unable to keep Jean in place before he disappeared. Scowling at him Marco got out of bed and followed him into the closet where he grabbed an eye patch and disrobed without second thought. He and Jean picked through the closet for what to wear but Jean ultimately left it to Marco to decide how he should dress. This was a big meeting with rather important people and he needed to look like he belonged.

Marco picked out his clothing for him which was a bit strange but he kinda liked it. It was interesting to see what he liked him in. A black formfitting, four piece suit that followed the frame of his body almost without an inch paired with a white undershirt and golden tie to apparently make his eyes brighter. He'd given Marco a suspicious glance for that last comment but nonetheless put on the clothing Marco had picked out. The suspenders and chest holster with accompanying pistol were new but he did as asked. While he donned his suit Marco had stepped off to the back of the closet to find something he hadn't worn in a long time. The suit Nero had tailored for him for his birthday earlier in the year.

He hadn't had an occasion to wear it yet but now seemed a good time. The deep maroon shone beneath the lighting as the black outlined it's edges giving it a faint brown glow. It's shimmering materials matched his silken, eldridge tied, tie exactly. If he were honest he found it a bit showy but walking into that meeting....showy was what he needed. They needed to look at him as himself not his father's son. In order for that to happen he needed to present himself in a manner his father didn't approve of: showing off. His father had been a shitty man but he was at least not a showboat.

Never wanting to draw any attention to himself was something he had prided himself on. Marco, however, wanted people to see him. It was more of a challenge that way and if people saw him it wasn't like they could touch him anyway. That always gave him a bit of a thrill so being a showboat was how he was going to stroll into the meeting. Jean would be at his side and for some reason that thought was more than enough to calm him as he fastened his cufflinks. Something so simple had never managed to affect him in the least but Jean caught his eye and smiled....that was all he needed.

His mind was clear and his heart was calm as he slipped on his shoes. Jean was waiting for him once he finished up and already ready with his phone for a photo. As always he stopped to pose for the photo letting Jean examine his dress as he wished. Once the image registered in his head Jean spit out a laugh. Marco's brow furrowed as he pouted and looked over to Jean.

Jean shook his head "A shiny suit? What, you gonna _'off'_ someone on the way there?"

"Bite me," Marco huffed as he exited the closet and headed towards the bathroom.

Following him Jean couldn't help a laugh "It's not my fault you're so stereotypical Marco. Do I need to change the dressing before we leave or do you think it'll be okay?"

Preening in the mirror Marco gelled back sections of his hair "I think it should be fine. Bring what you need just in case though."

"Huh? Why?" Jean asked as he assisted Marco with keeping the hair out of his eyes.

"Just in case we need to change it," Marco repeated.

"Thanks for explaining," Jean grumbled as he grabbed the kit beneath the sink. "Wear your sling at least."

"Okay. C'mere. Let me do your hair," he offered dragging him back. Jean agreed and allowed him to gel his hair though he found it a bit strange. He'd never thought he'd have to play this part again. During his father's affairs he always had to be so perfectly groomed with not even a hair out of place. If it was for Marco though he figured he could handle some hair gel but he was leaving his piercings in......well if Marco asked he'd probably take them out. Looking good for Marco so he could look good in his meeting was more important than his own disdain.

When they headed back to the bedroom Marco exited the room and came back with a pair of glasses "I was going to wait to give you these until the morning but I can't wait any longer. You're not the only one who talks to Hanji you know."

Jean took the square, wire framed glasses from his hands "Uh, Marco, what are these for exactly?"

"Humor me, Jean, and turn around when you put them on," Marco grinned deviously offering out the glasses. Extending an unsure hand Jean took the glasses and cautiously slid them over his face. Instantly he felt the air his lungs vacate. All thought processing slowed and a monochromatic world began to show inklings of color. As he blinked he slowly began to understand just what was happening. Vibrant colors were suddenly splashed on a blank canvas and for the first time in his life Jean was able to feel like he was a normal human being. He wasn't _"defective"_ anymore. Wide eyes blinking as he turned to face Marco it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing to his knees. For the first time he was seeing Marco as he was: radiant.

Sunkissed, freckled skin, a bright deep brown eye, and a pearlescent white smile so bright he couldn't help but fall more in love. He was so gorgeous. More so than he ever could have thought possible. It was impossible then to prevent his legs from moving forward as he placed his hands on Marco's cheeks. Staring back at him was the one person in the world he loved more than life itself. What a sensation he'd given him. He never believed this would be possible but here he was. A man to love, a new life to live, and a new world to see with him.

The moment he took in what it meant he felt the tears begin to cascade down his cheeks. It was overwhelming. Breathtakingly spectacular. Unable to prevent the flow of saline rushing his skin he flung himself against Marco. He could tell Marco was unsure of how to react but it was all he could do. He needed the comfort of his anchor in this new world around him. 

"My god," Jean whispered "you're so fucking gorgeous Marco."

Running a thumb over his cheek he smiled "Thank you, but you know, there's one sight more beautiful than anything else in the world?"

"What's that?" Jean asked as he looked up beyond curious.

In a hushed tone he whispered "Close your eyes." Obeying he closed his eyes and led Jean back into the bathroom _"You."_ Jean opened his eyes only to be met with his own reflection. Standing behind him Marco reached over and dimmed the lights letting his eyepatch fall. He wrapped his arm around his hip and kissed his cheek as he wiped away the tears. He'd never gotten to see himself. Never knew what his own eye color actually looked like or what any color looked like; they were all just shades of grey. For the first time he was able to see himself and the man who'd given him the ability.

Amber....it was interesting shade his eye color... he got lost staring a bit before he turned his attention to Marco. At first the silver of his eye was a bit startling. In the moments afterwards he found it just as marvelous now as he always had. The lines on his cheekbones were glowing faintly and he could see the aqua and orchid colored stripes. Everything was so overwhelming. With every turn of his head he saw something else, something new and so magnificently vivid. Looking at himself however was much stranger. It was like looking at someone he didn't know. Someone he'd never seen before.

"Marco," he turned to face him "there's no way I can thank you for this. I--I don't even know what--"

Before he could finish Marco kissed him "You don't have to thank me. The gift of color is one everyone should have. I don't want you to think that I don't love you colorblindness and all. I'm not trying to fix you or anything. I just know what it would mean to you to be able to finish your game all the way out and well Hanji made you a pair of contacts just so you wouldn't have to wear glasses if you didn't like them. "

"How did you even...." Jean paused in thought before thinking to what else he'd just said "and Marco, I don't think that way. I know you love me and it wasn't to try to _"fix"_ me. I just....I don't know how to respond--"

"I'm glad you understand me. There's a company called EnChroma who's been working on the tech for a while. I bought a pair of the glasses and Hanji took the tech and implemented them into a contact like she did to block out the light for my right eye," Marco interrupted again.

Jean smiled widely and smacked him playfully on the shoulder "How long were you planning this and can I wear the contacts?"

Digging into his lapel pocket he handed him a green case "About a week. Here, you know we'll have to figure out your favorite color now."

As he took the case from his hands he kissed him "Silver." Marco kissed him again and stepped over to turn the lights on for him. Jean was still beyond flabbergasted as he found himself rising and lowering the glasses before taking them off. He was having a bit of fun before he decided to take them off and try putting in contacts. It wasn't his first time but it had been a very long while so at first it took him a bit. His eyes watered and reddened a bit upon first inserting them but after a moment his eyes adjusted and he was staring at a world in full, brilliant color.

Marco took his arm in his and led him from the bathroom. Escorting him around the house Marco led Jean to a few different areas before they headed out. He was stunned by the beauty he was constantly surrounded by but couldn't let it distract him. The very moment Marco heard his mother rounding the corner he skittered out of the kitchen and paced quickly to the foyer where Michael awaited them. With a whistle and a head nod towards the door Michael understood and the three of them exited the home before she could catch them. Jean managed a little snicker about him sneaking out but he did understand not wanting to be scolded by his mother. She could be frightening.

While in the car Marco placed his hand atop his knee "I wish the sky was bright blue instead of this dreary overcast."

"Doesn't matter. I have the best view in the world right _here,"_ Jean grinned.

"You're the worst," Marco chuckled "but I agree with you."

"Mhmm, you better. You did the same thing to me you cheesy bastard," Jean joked as he leaned against him.

Wrapping his arm around his shoulders he smiled "Yes I know. So Jean, there are some things I'd like to go over with you before we arrive."

Straightening up, he heard the tone in Marco's voice and nodded his head "Yes, sir...What do I need to know?"

Flinching a bit at the title Marco sighed "First of all I will be the most powerful person in that room. Do not let _anyone_ intimidate you. Tell them to straight fuck off if you must. Second, everyone there is the head of a different family. There will be 12 of us. Some are from southern Italy and some from northern Italy. They will not get along with each other very well until well within their umpteenth glass of wine. It will be a verbal boxing match you will not understand half of. You will receive glares for simply being with me and as well other second in commands that will be there. Third, this is a battle for control. No one is gonna want to hand it over to me willy nilly. I have to have support backing me for it. Most importantly if someone points a gun at me do not pull yours. A simple flash is all they need to see. Everyone at the table knows who I am, what I have done, and what I am still capable of."

Taking in all the information Jean nodded "Okay, so I'm to stay at your side, look threatening yet placid, not react if someone points a pistol at you, and just enjoy my wine while people shout at each other in Italian?"

"Basically," Marco chuckled "but don't worry. I'm going to be right beside you and if you'd like to know the details feel free to ask me. There will be some people there who are not family related but will be there to show their support for aiming for my seat. Honestly, I doubt anyone will make a big deal once I announce my candidacy. No one expects it."

"Okay," Jean nodded "so long as you'll be alright. I don't think I'll be too scared just a bit.....off put. Being in a room with a bunch of big time criminals was never exactly in my _"life plans"_ book."

"Neither was falling in love with one," Marco pointed out with a kiss to his forehead "but you seem to be doing just fine with that one. I promise I'll be alright."

Cringing at the phrase Jean stared back at him fiercely "You've said that line before."

Even Marco had to flinch "Oh.. _.yeah.._.technically I am okay but if I tried to use that you'd punch me. I know I will be safe here, okay?"

"If you say so," Jean sighed. He was about to open his mouth again to ask how long it would be until they arrive but he felt the car stop. It didn't feel like a very long car ride at all. Perhaps he'd been so caught up in Marco that he hadn't noticed. It wasn't as if it mattered too much in the end. They'd arrived to a small establishment on the outskirts of the city meaning it in fact hadn't been too far from the house. Jean wondered if that wasn't a bit on purpose. Michael opened Marco's door for him and Jean slid out of the car behind him. He'd taken Jean's hand lightly and kissed the back of his hand before he assumed that menacing, commanding aura he so often did when dealing with business ventures. Deciding to do the same Jean straightened up a bit and opened the door for Marco as they headed into the small establishment. They'd left Michael outside with the car as they entered but something told Jean he'd return home until called.

As they strolled in Jean's eyes darted from one section to another. Whether it was his new ability or the fact the bar itself was decorated beautifully he didn't know but he was rather amazed before he was concerned. The lack of patrons was more than a tad suspicious but then again he supposed the mob didn't care much for outsiders listening in to their conversations. Potentially on cue to their pause, a man behind the counter nodded towards the stairs. Marco lowered his head in thanks and Jean responded similarly before heading up to the stairs ahead of him.

Jean was met by a thick tan door in his way once they reached the top of the carpeted stairs. He turned his head over his shoulder and Marco was nowhere to be found. Panic set in for a moment before he discovered Marco at the foot of the stairs giving him the nod to go in ahead of him. That was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want to be staring down mobsters unable to tell them what was going on but he did trust Marco. With his hand on the doorknob he looked back to smile at Marco and pushed open the door. The very moment he did so he took a breath and stepped forward. Instead of accusatory tones he only heard confusion in the thick darkness that blanketed them all. Within a few seconds the lights flickered overhead and whirred back to life. Ahead of him was a circular cherrywood table with 12 seats. Men he did not know filled them but it was then he saw Marco sitting at the far left of the table with his feet propped up on the corner. Groaning at his dramatics Jean shuffled over to his right side as he heard many a surprised voices.

"Way to start the party without me, gentleman," Marco chuckled as Jean came to his side.

Bending slightly Jean grumbled at his ear "You could have told me you were going to sneak in through the damn window."

"Ah, but where would the fun have been?" He mused, clearly pleased with himself.

Just before Jean could say anything a familiar face spoke "Hahaha, oh Jean, yes? I am glad to see you could make it. Though I must say all of us are surprised to see Marco here."

Don Lucchese had grinned widely but Jean was more taken aback by the horrid yellow plaidweave suit he was wearing "Yes, that is correct. It's good to see you again as well but as for Marco--"

"I decided I needed some air," he interrupted looking over to Jean with an arched brow.

"Mm. We heard you had been injured again. Clearly you and this band of misfit renegades are dangerous for everyone," spat a man in a navy and cream suit.

Eyes shifting to him, Marco snarled "Watch your mouth about them Persico before I find it in me to gut you at this table."

The man sneered "Watch your own tongue Martello. We all know why you're here. Just another figurehead looking to pawn off your job on someone else. If your father was here--"

 **"Well he isn't is he?!"** Marco retorted palms slamming on the table as he straightened in his seat. "This is not about him. This is about deciding someone to take their rightful place." Jean placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as he sensed the budding rage boiling in Marco's veins. In return he looked over to him and cleared his throat " _Erm_...excuse me...I'm a bit more prone to anger today it would seem. Officially I would like to claim what is my own. All of it." Before Jean knew what was happening the room erupted into fits of Italian. He was more than a bit lost as everyone was ranting and raving with hands being tossed wildly into the air.

The only thing he could tell was who was not happy and who was thrilled. After a while however the two began to merge and he was unsure of everything. A glass of red wine was the only thing he knew and so while Marco was talking he picked up his glass and downed more than half before sitting it back on the table. Unfortunately Jean was unaware of the eyes that had turned on him during the action. When the chatter stopped and everyone was staring at him he froze up. Marco smiled and raised the glass to his lips taking a drink.

"Would you like to finish the rest, Jean?" Marco asked in a playful tone.

"Right now? _You bet,"_ Jean sighed. Doing something he wasn't expecting Marco decided to be more than a bit unprofessional. Taking the wine glass Marco drank the rest of it, holding it in his mouth as he pulled Jean down by his tie. Kissing him and swapping the rouge alcohol into his mouth Jean's eyes widened. As he pulled away from Marco's embrace he stared back at him as if he'd grown a tail.

Swiping his middle finger over his bottom lip Marco grinned "What? I thought you wanted to finish the rest of my wine. Next time you wish to swap spit Jean I prefer to do it in _better_ ways."

As those around the table laughed one man chuckled "Marco, we knew you had....peculiar tastes in company but certainly a lesson taught in that way will only make him want to leave you at the table."

Marco shrugged "Perhaps. Jean, would you pour me another glass? The bottle is behind you to your left."

Snatching the glass Jean grumbled through gritted teeth "Yes, sir." As he turned to grab the bottle he was met with a couple of other men with glasses. Apparently the other second hands were instructed to refill their bosses glasses as well so he filled their glasses and returned to the table. It was strange. He was receiving the glances he knew he would get while there but the moment he leaned over the table and Marco's ring fell from his neck they contorted to something vastly different. Before he could grab it Marco reached over and let the ring settle atop his palm. Looking up to him he gave Jean a soft smile and dropped it.

Everyone's eyes seemed to have caught a glimpse of the ring as Marco pushed back from the table. A bit confused Jean tilted his head and Marco walked around room without returning a second glimpse. It seemed that everyone was worried about was going on as all eyes followed Marco around the room. Once he grumbled and turned back around he pulled his seat back from the table.

"You've been standing for a while. Sit down for a bit," Marco suggested as he gestured towards the chair.

Jean shook his head "It's fine, Marco. I'm alright, really."

Not taking his no for an answer Marco met his gaze "Jean. Sit. Seriously, I'm **not** asking."

"So you think you can tell me what to do when we're here?" Jean whispered as he tugged him away from the table.

Grinning at him taking the bait so easily Marco chuckled "Not at _all."_

"Marco if you and your _mistress_ will join us," one of the men called.

Pulling Jean back with him Marco took his seat "Boyfriend actually. Now, treat him as if he were my consigliere and it will not end well for you at my own hand. Treat him as if he were anything other than my equal or disobey his order and he will shoot you _himself._ He's already done it once." Under breath the word " _Finocchio"_ was whispered causing Marco to place a hand beneath Jean's blazer. The glint of the pistol's butt shone in the lighting and Jean was pretty sure everyone knew what Marco was going for.

Don Lucchese stiffened "Excuse Bonanno, Marco. It seems he's forgotten his place."

"Indeed he has," Marco snipped "but thankfully my trigger finger is dulled for Capo and Dons. Gentlemen. I am well aware some of you are worried of me assuming my place over you. You believe I will be cutting down on certain transgressions and that is true but that is for things of the most heinous of natures. If you are planning on rebelling against me please look to see what is left of the Bergas as an example. I don't plan on interfering too much but as far as I am concerned my word is absolute."

"And what is it that we are to think of your _company,_ Martello? The little American boy. How do we know he will not turn rodent?"

"Don Bellomo I can assure you he will not be turning on anyone. Jean helped the Spades take down the White Rabbit and is, quite frankly, the only reason I'm alive today. Never have been able to say this but I love him. If he ever does turn let me assure you," Marco's tone darkened as he looked over to Jean "I'll be the one to kill him."

Jean found it a bit hard to swallow as he'd said those words but he stepped forward and steeled himself "Gentlemen I do not know all of you but I can promise my loyalties remain with Marco. During our time together I have offered my life in order to protect his and I will continue to do so. I am not someone to be trifled with nor do I believe any of you are. I have nothing connecting me to my life back in the states. My life is with Marco and this is his life so by extension it is mine as well. You all have nothing to worry about."

Don Bellomo's somber olive eyes met his own as he nodded "Very well. May I ask your last name?"

A bit reluctant Jean agreed "Certainly. My last name is Kirschtein."

"Frank Bellomo. It is an honor to meet you Mr. Kirschtein," he smiled crookedly as he raised his wine glass.

"I think it's high time we called a vote," a man in a chocolate suit suggested.

Don Lucchese raised a finger as he dialed a number on his cell phone "First however we must call in our associates, yes?" It seemed everyone was then removing cell phones to call up close business partners. Every family had certain people on retainers and while that was no secret it was certainly strange to see the people they all dealt with. Jean felt a bit odd being there but Marco informed him who each of the callers were. From arms dealers, information brokers, drug runners, fixers, and cleaners it seemed the entire worldwide criminal network had a vote to cast. They were not affected at all as more than one person put in the call to Levi, or as everyone else knew him, Ace.

"It is no surprise here that my vote falls to Marco. While my people have had the pleasure of working with almost all of you it is of no doubt that the better leader here would be Marco instead of Mr. Persico. He is rash in thinking, sloppy and ignorant in action, horrible with finances, and much prefers to call one of his girlfriends in _pick-a-fucking-province_ and relax with a cigar and glass of wine rather than do any actual work. Being born from a prominent family does not a suitable leader make. It requires finesse, a connection to those under your command, and a gentle yet commanding voice and presence. If anyone knows Marco it's me. He's far more suitable. Thank you gentlemen, if you'll excuse me now I have to get back to my therapy. Marco, call me later. Jean, keep him in line for us. Ciao." The call dropped and Jean chuckled as he stood at Marco's side. Speech was flying from every direction but the one thing he knew was that the guy Levi had spoken of was far from happy.

Jean continued to listen to the array of babble back and forth over the table. Gesticulations flew wildly from various people and Jean was beginning to get dizzy before debates were finally ceasing. He couldn't really assume how things were progressing but the moment Marco leaned back in the chair and grabbed his hand he had a feeling he knew the outcome. What he guessed was a vote had commenced and glasses were being raised. Once Marco's name arose he saw at least 7 glasses of red wine raised into the air and it seemed he'd won. At least for the current heads of the families anyhow.

They tallied up the others in a nailbiting waiting period that felt more like an hour than the 10 minutes that it truly was. Everyone began standing at the table when the votes came in. Of course it was all in Italian and he couldn't make out a word except Marco's name. What he could make out was with Marco. Before he could think Marco's hand was on his face and his lips were over his. A momentary connection of their lips filled with victorious exuberance was more than thrilling.

"Italy is ours," he whispered by his ear. "Time to go home and celebrate?"

Jean wrapped his arms around his hips "How close was the vote?"

"With all the favors? Very close. I only took control of southern Italy by about 16 votes haha," he laughed so warmly everyone turned to look at him. As he brought Jean closer he gave him another kiss while everyone lowered their head to him. That very moment Jean broke away from Marco, staring up at the man he loved with a blinding smile, he came to a startling realization; in front of Jean was now the most powerful man in _all_ of Italy and that man was **his.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the last chapter of today's update. I hope you enjoy seeing mightily one man can roar.
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Marco stood among a crowd of lowered heads in respect of his title. Jean backed up a few steps and did the same causing Marco to walk over to him, lift his chin, kiss both his cheeks and then his forehead. At the display Jean snickered and removed the ring from around his neck offering it back to him. The funeral was over after all and he didn't need to be wearing it anymore.

"Leave it," Marco declared.

Confused Jean dropped the clasp from his fingers "But the funeral is over, Marco."

"Don't you think I know that? Keep it. Looks better on you," he chuckled.

"You're...giving me your ring?" Jean practically squeaked as the others looked on.

Marco smiled reaching up for his cheek "Just wear it for me. Keep it safe. It makes you untouchable."

"I don't know," Jean pulled him close _"you_ seem to have an issue with keeping your hands off me."

"I didn't say from me," he retorted placing a kiss on his cheek before turning to face the table. "Now, I think it's time I introduce you to everyone before we leave. Going counterclockwise," Marco gestured out to a man at his right wearing a violet dress shirt as his second in command held his blazer folded over his arm "Don Cali, Don Mancuso, Don Genovesee, Don Crea, Don DiFiore, Don Lucchesse, Don Bellomo, Don Amuso, Don Persico, Don Gambino, and Don Bonanno. Gentlemen, within the next few days I will be arranging travel to visit each of your territories along with gathering intel on your various operations. When I arrive, I expect full details on every operation you run. Do not lie to me. I will find out. As for those of you who may be plotting some coup or rebellion please examine Jean." He gave Jean a smile "Babe, turn your head to the right for me," as Jean did so Marco continued "thank you. In case you all forgot who I am take this moment to see who Jean is."

Don Bellomo smirked as he noticed the spade behind Jean's ear "So, you courted your own brethren, Marco? He is a Spade as you are?"

Marco shrugged "He's something _far_ better than I could ever hope to be. While he's not entirely stealthy Jean here is colorblind meaning his senses aside from his sight are sharper than years of training. Baby, what scent is Don Persico wearing?"

Not exactly keen on being presented like a dog Jean rolled his eyes, closed them and pointed around the table "Hmmm, if I can pinpoint which of them was wearing more cologne it'd definitely be in that region. Jesus Christ, take it easy on the musk gentlemen. But if he's sitting there then I would guess he's not wearing anything though he does permeate a scent of tobacco, something bitter....mint...no...bergamot? Interesting."

The man scoffed "Nice parlor trick. So, you see just like mangy mutt huh? Black and white?"

"Dogs can see variants of three colors actually but yes I see in black and white without contacts in," Jean responded quickly.

"Hmph, so the _dog_ is better hahaha!" The moment his words left his mouth Marco glanced away.

Jean laughed along with him "Yeah, hahaha, I guess so. I mean the dog won't judge you for that hideous suit, your shitty attitude, the atrocious scent wafting off your person, the dire need for a pair of tweezers for your eyebrows, or how even your second looks as if he _hates_ you as do most people in the room. A dog wouldn't also kill you at the drop of a hat like I would. So yeah, a dog would be better for _you."_

 _"God,_ I love you," Marco snickered. "If anyone else has any comments or questions I suggest you ask now."

Don Amuso nodded, his greying sable hair standing out beneath the lighting "Mr. Kirschtein, will you be taking the Omerta?"

Marco nodded "He will be. This evening when we return home or if you prefer he can take it now in front of all of you."

"I think that would be best," Don Cali chimed in.

"Very well. I'll prepare the rites." Marco left the table to head to a bar at the back of the room. Jean was confused as to what was going on now. He thought they were going home to celebrate his succession. Whatever this Omerta was he didn't know if he should like it or not. His eyes followed Marco as he kept his back turned to the table while he poured a glass of brandy and fiddled with some leather bound book. Before returning he downed the brandy and carried a lit candle towards the table while the book he'd had held beneath his arm. His first instinct was to help but he shook his head.

Jean watched as Marco shifted his hip and he immediately knew that action "Marco Darien Bodt, did you just release the blade at your thigh?"

Cringing as he was called his full name he smirked and shifted to Jean "You're getting good at that. I'm almost worried." He jerked his knee up and caught the blade between his forefingers as it flew from his pants leg "But until you can do that I think I'm fine. C'mere." Jean furrowed his brows and stepped forward noticing the things laid out on the table: Marco's knife, a lit candle, a pen, an ink well, and a book open to a page of known mafia associates and their contact information. He watched carefully as Marco flipped to a page half full and began to write Jean's name, his previous address, and every ounce of information on him down to his social security number on the page. Afterwards he signed his initials by his name and slit his thumb to place a smear of his blood by it. Jean's stomach churned.

After pulling a clear page from the back Marco sat it on the table and looked to Jean "Kneel Jean."

"Bet he's used to that, huh Marco!" Don Crea jested.

Marco grinned "Perhaps he's the _only_ man this Martello man kneels to, I'll never tell. Now, Jean what you're about to do is take an oath of silence. This code is for my family, not for any of theirs nor is it an induction so don't look at it that way. You will promise to me here and now all things you say and do are for the protection of our way of life. Should one come faced with the option of betrayal or death know death is the man's only honorable option. The Omerta states that whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either proven fool or coward. He who cannot take care of himself without government protection is both. It is a cowards offense to betray his offender to justice, even though offenses be against yourself, as it is not to avenge an injury by violence. It is contemptible in a wounded man to betray the name of his assailant. Should he recover he must, naturally, expect to take vengeance himself. A wounded man shall say to his assailant: If I live, I will kill you - If I die you are forgiven. That is the rule of the land on which we stand. In our writ our lives are currency for debts repaid. A sealed lip a profitable brotherhood make."

Jean stared up at him and nodded his head "Okay. What do I need to do?"

Waving his hand upwards he beckoned Jean to his feet "You are to write your previous connections on this paper. Your family. Your life. As you repeat after me you will set the paper aflame and pass it from hand to hand until completely consumed by the fire. Afterwards you will promise your life to me, and only me, in servitude of loyalty. I will then draw blood from your trigger fingers and mark your place in our black book."

"Okay," Jean was beyond nervous as he approached the table and began to scrawl out but a couple of name. Marco, Camilla, Michael, Eren, Connie, Krista, Ymir, Mikasa, Armin, and even Levi made the names of the people he cared for as he prepared to burn the paper. Staring down at the names made him come to realize that only 2 were not in his current family. How his life had changed thanks to Eren fucking Jaeger was insane but he couldn't be happier to prove to everyone how much he was willing to lay his own life on the line to protect what he'd gained.

As he finished writing Marco smiled and lifted his chin "Light the left edge of the paper by holding it above the candle. Begin repeating after me and switch hands as often as you need to. Are you ready?" At his nod he continued "My life is held in the hands of many but it is now merely a whisper in the wake of the debt I owe. My family is a group related by blood and now it is simply the ties of a place that hold my feet. I have chosen to remain loyal to those on this paper but those who've shed my blood, earn my blood. Loyalty is honor, blood is devotion, secrecy is held, and my life is my currency to the debt I now owe. In my death there is honor, a sacrifice made to the brotherhood of my choosing, and should I prepare to sever my ties I prepare to pay my debt. In servitude I am yours. On my honor."

Jean had no idea if he could remember all that but once the flames were licking hungrily at his fingertips as they ate away at the paper he knew he had to hurry. Marco's gaze was intense as he held it. He'd never felt so on the spot in his life as he had then, pledging his life and his loyalty to Marco in front of a room full of people who'd done the same. It wasn't just his nausea acting on him making him nervous but also the fire as it caught his right hand.

Beginning his speech he began the shift of the paper "My life is held in the hands of many but it is now merely a whisper in the wake of the debt I owe. My family is a--" he paused for a moment switching the paper in his hands before it burnt his fingertips "--group related by blood and now it is simply the ties of a place that hold my feet. I have chosen to remain loyal to those on this paper and those who've shed my blood, earn my blood." As he took a deep breath he winced, finding another fingertip burnt before the next switch "Loyalty is honor, blood is devotion, secrecy is held, and my life is my currency to the debt I now owe. In my death there is honor, a sacrifice made to the brotherhood of my choosing, and should I prepare to sever my ties I prepare to pay my debt. In servitude I am yours. On my honor--" as he finished and the remains of the paper burnt at the table Jean smiled and kissed Marco softly "--I love you."

Quickly moving to the next stage he grabbed Jean's hand "Place the blood at the the end of your name. When both drops are atop one another and dried you will sign your name over them. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jean responded confidently. He let each of his index fingers be sliced just enough to draw the smallest drop of crimson. Each drop landed on the page from a high enough height to cause it to splatter against the page creating an interesting sunburst like pattern next to his information. Marco withdrew the pocket square from his breastpocket to prevent the bleeding, not something a boss often did for their men, but of course Jean wasn't most men. The very moment the bleeding stopped and his blood on the page had dried he took Marco's gold leafed fountain pen and signed his name across the blood stained entry.

Once the pen was down, the ink had dried, and Marco retrieved his pocket square he closed the book "Very good, Jean. Now, there's one last bit which is something you would call stereotypical but it is so for a reason. Normally, here you would kneel again, kiss the ring on my hand, and rise a made man in the Martello family, however, you didn't kill any of my enemies and you are not Italian so thus cannot be inducted into the family. You've taken a vow of silence and pledged me your life. If you betray your word, which is as real as the rest, you will be killed. It's almost like you're my husband only much, _much_ more deadly and binding."

Arms folded over his chest Jean scoffed "Please. If I were going to marry you Marco I'd expect so much more from you, _Drama Queen_.....but I suppose if I was supposed to kiss your ring to be in the family, should I steal your lips to be in your bed and at your side?"

Pleased with his response Marco shrugged "I wouldn't have it any other way." Jean sighed and reached out for his lapels dragging him over. His fingers hurt, sure, but Marco's stomach fluttering kisses always made his ills seemingly vanish. A simple connection of Marco's lips was more than enough to spark a sense of desire but he knew this was not the time nor place for an expression of love. He broke from his embrace after a fleeting second and ran his fingers over his cheek.

Jean turned lowering his head to the table "I believe I am finished, yes?"

Don Cali nodded "Most certainly. Welcome to O _ur Thing_ Mr. Kirschtein. Do treat our captain well lest you wish us all on your heels."

Before he could respond Don Crea laughed and raised his glass "A toast. To the bravest, potentially _stupidest_ , man I've ever seen. Brave enough to join an assassin company, take down the worlds best assassin organization, bed the head of the Italian mafia, scold him, and live to show us all how  _mightily_  he roars. Jean Kirschtein, you are a man many of us will not fear yet revere....okay and _maybe_ we'll watch our shadows. It is a bewildering honor to have you as the second above us all. Here's to you, sir."

Marco raised his glass, cheshire smile widening over his face "I'll drink to that. Cheers, amore." Jean felt more than a bit flushed as everyone met his gaze as they drank while his eyes scanned the room. It seemed while his place was questioned before, it was now etched in blood. There was no running anymore. By an oath he'd sworn, with his life, to uphold Marco was his boss, his lover, and his charge. His promise to give life and limb to protect him and the family was taken. Jean's family was crystal clear now.

"Can we go home now?" Jean whispered in obvious embarrassment.

With a snicker Marco offered his wine "First take a sip, raise your glass, and then we'll see. Normally we just sit around and get drunk. Unless.....you'd rather go home and _celebrate?"_

At his tone and Jean's blush Don Bellomo chuckled "I think it is best if you do not wear him out Marco. He may need energy come morning if he is to put up with your oversized ego now."

"Hahaha! Damn Frank, I'm almost wounded but ya know something," he paused lowering his voice as his right hand smacked Jean's ass "it's not wearing him out I'm afraid of! This boy's got more energy than it looks."

 **"Marco Bodt!"** Jean shouted as he felt the jarring connection to his backside "If you don't watch your damn mouth you'll be providing yourself with _energy_ for a fucking month! Get me?!"

"Ack!" Don Lucchese choked on his wine as Jean squeaked. "Damn he is funny! I would watch out Marco he seems serious! Wouldn't want to anger your _wife!"_

Jean stiffened "I am **not** the buffoon's wife!"

"Never will be with _that_ attitude," Marco snarked.

Eyes widening Jean pushed a finger into Marco's chest "Do you remember what I told you a few moments ago? I am not afraid to put you back in your place when you're being an asshole. If you don't want to marry me then why are you with me, huh? Don't you love me? Aren't I your _world?_ Haven't I taken your place at the head of the table?"

Grinning at how easily Jean had once again stumbled into his trap Marco held his hand in front of his chest "Easy. I was kidding. Of _course_ I love you, you are the only man I have come close to dying for, the _only_ man I kneel to. You did take my place and I did tell you I saw a future with you. Why else would you already be wearing my ring, Jean? Do you truly think it's to protect you? Or do you believe it's because I love you and I want you to keep a token of my promise with you at all times? Maybe, it's even a promise of a _different_ ring I plan on buying in the future?"

Huffing Jean put his hands to his temples turning redder than he had before "Oh my god....dammit Marco! Why are you like this?!"

Everyone began laughing as Marco hugged him and kissed his forehead "Because, what was it you said, you've never had to love someone like _me?"_

"I _hate_ you," Jean grumbled into his shoulder.

Marco laughed softly "I know. I do have to have some fun with you otherwise the boys might think I'd lost my edge."

"Hmm, I do not think so boss. I might say it is only going to get sharper now that you have someone to protect. I will be honest. None of us expected you to _ever_ be involved with the business nor take a serious lover Marco. Jean it seems is what you need to make up for the things you lack. Though you have gotten softer it is a good thing I believe. Before your assassin way of life was not one to be fulfilling. I often wondered you capable of love at all. Too much love for the death and chaos you pursued in good sport I once thought led you astray. Now I find it may have led you to the path you were meant to step. After all, many of us are the same, we are married with wives and children or making progress there. In weakness there lies strength, Marco, never forget. A family and love gives a man purpose, a reason to be stronger, to have something to protect means something to lose and a man with such things is far more dangerous. He will do anything to keep what is his, yes? " Don Genovesee spoke strictly as he offered his wisdom to Marco.

With a nod of his head to the elder gentleman Marco smiled warmly "I appreciate your words Niccolo for they carry a hefty weight. I do believe you are right. Jean risked his life to save my own and I did the same in return. I honestly didn't believe myself capable of love either but I have thankfully been proven wrong. In many ways I've been proven wrong today. I do know having a gay man as the leader of our organization is not what most of you would chose. I am not my father. I _never_ will be. There are things I will never be able to do for you all but I promise you that I will be someone better and someone you deserve. Once I didn't want this for myself, I saw it as a burden on me, my life, forcing me to walk a path I never wanted. I pushed myself to go against everything I was groomed for. Giovanni Martello wanted nothing more than a bastard for his throne and while I know many of you cared for my father it is of no secret that I did not. None of you particularly cared for me once you'd learned of me either. In time, however, I've come to realize that just because it was something I was born for doesn't necessarily mean I can't _also_ choose it for myself."

Jean smiled up at him "And that's what I've been telling you all along, you idiot."

"And I believe you," Marco responded with a chuckle "but I think it's time for us to take our leave. Jean has certainly been overwhelmed enough for one day."

"Marco, for what is worth. We always _knew_ that you could do this. Please, enjoy your night, and we all look forward to your visits. Arrivederci," Don Lucchese responded with a hearty laugh and another glass of wine. All glasses raised around the table and Marco gave his final sip of wine before taking Jean's arm in his own and exiting the room. While they walked down the stairs and exited the little bar Jean let his mind come to a conclusion. Standing there with Marco in the damp air, scent of petrichor and wet stone clinging on the breeze was pure bliss. Marco was smiling. He was happy and after the morning they'd had it was all he could want. To be honest the entire day had been one giant emotional rollercoaster but here they were waiting on Michael in what could only be described as serenity.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first bi-weekly update of A Shining Spade. By now you may have noticed the chapters have a finalized amount. Don't ask me how it always ends around 30. I don't fucking know but it does. At the moment this chapter doesn't seem to be too interesting and I apologize but make sure you still pay attention. 
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Fixing to ask if Marco was about to call Michael he was instead tugged along the street by his wrist. Beautiful iron and glass lamp posts stood at various increments of the streets illuminating them with a peaceful amber glow that Jean was all too lost in. He'd never gotten to see city lights...not the way there were supposed to look. His feet skidded as he attempted to stop while Marco dragged him along. Marco had a gleam in his eye and it was not just from the lamp posts. Having seen it before Jean knew that Marco was up to something as he escorted him through the sidewalks of the town.

Shortly they began taking sharp turns running from one back end street to the next. Everything was moving so fast it was hard to see but with Marco tugging him along he trusted their path. Marco knew the city like the back of his hand so he knew where they were going but for Jean this was a strange adventure. Cobbled stone paths, having to remain silent as they passed through several alleyways to avoid having poured on them by the tenants of the homes, narrowly avoiding bumping into someone when they approached a main street: Jean was exhausted but exhilarated.

They turned the next corner and suddenly Jean was staring at a small market place. Lights lit up the small area as people moved about the stalls displaying their wares. Jean's eyes darted from one to the other unsure of where to begin. He wasn't even sure that these little bazaar things happened in the night but Marco led him around through so many back streets in the city he wasn't even sure where he was anymore. While he was trying to ascertain where they were Marco drug him off a bit father down the road.

"Marco," Jean whined "where are you taking me?"

Stopping in the center street he grinned "Just to a place you might like, c'mon." Doing as asked Jean followed behind him as he weaved through the various stalls. They came upon a simple little shop nestled into the side of the street. A rust colored banner flew just beneath it's oning Marco instructed him to follow as they stepped inside. It was rather small inside with just a couple tables scatted about and a bar stretching out across the back of the room. If anything the smell of the place gave it away almost immediately. Jean may not had ever been to many but he'd been into an ice cream bar before.

Upon approaching, the elder gentleman behind the bar stepped back so Marco lowered his head "Forgive my presence. I wish nothing undue to you, sir."

"It is not often your _kind_ finds their way here," the man spoke as he responded to Marco with clear disdain.

"Well, I will see to it that we do not. I've always enjoyed this place it would be a shame to see it go. I'm just here for a late night celebratory treat with my lover, is that alright?" Marco asked with a soft tone.

The man nodded "I would appreciate your quick business. Do you know what you would like?"

"Thank you. I'll take tiramisu while my American friend is probably more than a bit lost staring at your menu. Jean," Marco called softly "are you having difficulties?"

Jean's eyes scanned the chalk board and leaned against Marco _"Of course._ I can't read Italian."

Placing his hand at his hip Marco snickered "Haha, I know, I'll have to teach you sometime. What's something you're in the mood for?"

"Aside from you?" Jean grinned "Maybe something I can't get back home?"

"Zabaione or amarena perhaps?" Marco suggested.

Confused slightly at the options Marco had posed Jean tilted his head "And uh, what are those?"

Marco pointed to each in the bar "Well amarena is one of my favorites. It's almost a uh...cream like tasting base with a sauce of sour cherries kind of mixed in. The cherries have been stewed in something, I don't know what exactly, but they’re chewy and delicious, and you’re likely to get at least one whole cherry. Zabaione is almost like a creamy custard flavored gelato but it's made with Marsala wine and the taste is rather prevalent."

"Lemme have the cherry one, please," Jean asked with a sweet smile batting his eyes at Marco. Fishing in his pocket Marco removed his wallet and placed his money on the counter while the man made their desserts. Jean waited patiently leaning against Marco just enough to take comfort in his arm around him yet not enough to push any of his weight onto his already unsteady stance. The wait wasn't long and once again the man and Marco exchanged some Italian words and made their exit after he watched Marco leave behind a rather sizable tip which was more than strange. Judging, however, from the man's tone it was more than likely a placation for their disturbance.

After leaving he'd taken the first taste of his gelato only to discover it was possibly the greatest thing he'd ever tasted. It was cold, sweet, and a bit tangy which he liked. Looking over to Marco he chuckled to himself, it seemed he really did have a penchant for sweet things with a bit of a twist. Marco was busy eating his own treat to notice the way Jean was staring at him but he didn't care. Just being in the moment, walking the streets of Florence with his love, a sweet treat, and the world at their fingertips was more than enough. He'd wondered if Marco was just doing this to delay tomorrow or if he just wanted an excuse to not go home yet, where he was reminded of Nero at every corner. No matter, he was having fun.

They stopped back at the small bazaar and began to step slower examining the wares from afar. Like always Jean found his eyes drawn to the various shines being cast from objects beneath the lighting. He might have been almost like a bird that way. Now that color washed over his sight however he found himself attracted to bright colors as well, something about them was exciting.

Marco was finishing his tiramisu gelato and so while he was distracted Jean slipped away. He'd tossed the napkin he'd had catching the drippings from the dessert into the nearest trash bin and entered a small vendor stall. Shifting his gaze from one area to another he shortly found himself taken with section of leather work and art utensils. Perusing the selection he began to feel himself drawn to an item. Being so lost in his own head he didn't hear Marco appear behind him as if blown in on the wind. Had it not been for his scent Jean might have missed his presence completely.

"What's caught your eye over here, hmm?" Marco purred at his ear.

Jean shivered and turned "Nothing you should worry about."

"Come now," he prodded "why is that? Surely it's nothing scandalous so what can't you want me to see?"

"It's nothing," Jean finalized.

He not might have said so but even Marco knew something had caught his eye "Jean....tell me."

At his tone Jean turned and sighed "I was looking at something to store my pencils in or perhaps even my sketchbooks. They're fragile and expensive and I don't like what they're in now."

"So you're examining leather pouches and more art supplies next to colorful fabrics?" Marco asked with a genuine curiosity.

"Yes," Jean responded quickly "I'm thinking of buying one and a pencil case since I like how these are organized."

"Hmm," Marco stepped over to the table and grabbed Jean's wrist before he could touch anything "don't touch anything. Let me ask some questions." He called the woman tending the stall over to their location and Marco began asking variety of questions to a very timid, frail looking woman. As always Marco seemed beyond respectful and when the two arrived to the table Marco gestured to a leather satchel. "She informs me this one has a section in the top for holding an artists paintbrushes, perhaps it would work for a sketch artist's pencils?"

With a sigh Jean nodded "Perhaps it might." He took the satchel in his hands carefully examining the close detail in the stitching of the leather and the details burnt into it. The ivy patterning across the top reminded him of the tattoo across his chest and the inside was big enough to hold a decently sized sketch book. It was perfect. Even beneath the top section of the bag lied a section of holdings meant for the brushes or, in his case, pencils. Before voicing his opinion he glanced over to Marco who was picking up three long sticks of maroon, black, and golden wax along with an ink well, a new leather tied journal, and plucking Jean's satchel straight from his paws.

"Shh," Marco grinned "I had to come here anyway. Delphina's mother normally is running the stall but today that is not the case. Just allow me?"

Jean's brows furrowed "I can pay for it myself, Marco."

"And if I still want to?" He pushed.

"Then I'll put the cost of it in your desk when you aren't looking," Jean snarked back.

Removing his wallet to pay for the items, Marco chuckled "Haha, I look forward to it. You know it's pointless for me to have all this money if I can't spend it on the man I love."

"What are you a Sugar Daddy?" He retorted with a smirk.

"Perhaps. Does this mean in return for buying you things I get sexual favors?" Marco waggled his brows and placed the purchased items in the satchel before handing it to Jean.

Securing it around his body Jean grimaced "Ew. You're not getting anything out of me unless you're nice, Italian kingpin or not."

Tugging him along Marco sighed "Well there went my dreams for tonight, darn."

Jean smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist "Haha, so sorry to get your hopes up. Where are we going now?"

"You'll see," was all he said in response. The entire walk was silent. Listening to Marco's breath as they walked and the insects was nice but he was curious about their next destination. What else could there be? Jean knew Marco liked his dramatic reveals but as they were walking he didn't get that feeling. Marco wasn't being cheeky and he wasn't screwing around, he was just walking casually towards the center of the city.

He'd been wrong. It wasn't the center of the city instead however it was something far more grand. In order to cross to the other side of the city they needed across a bridge. Spectacular lights lit up the magnificent structure. Halfway across there was a shorter section where they could stare out at the few gondolas passing peacefully, and vacant, across the water's surface. Fluttering lights, city sounds, Marco's warmth around him as he stood behind him staring out at the breathtaking view: there was so much more. In color the world seemed new, brighter, filled with more hope and all because of Marco.

A question ingrained itself into his mind as he stood there with Marco "Marco, which one was right?"

Befuddled, Marco hummed "Hmm? Which what?"

"When you brought up the reasons I still have your ring....which one was true?" He turned around to face Marco, meeting his sparkling russet eye.

Cupping his cheek Marco smiled _"All of them._ It does in fact keep you safe, it tells other people you're protected under the Martello's care and not just any Martello. I want you to carry it as a reminder that, even when you aren't with me all the time, I'm still here. My promise to love you, to be only yours until I die, will remain with you and be evident around your neck. It's also reminder of the promise I make right here and right now: I _am_ going to marry you, Jean. It's not legal here so it would have to be elsewhere but that ring around your neck is a promise to replace it, in time, with one band around your left ring finger."

Looping his arms around Marco's neck he kissed him softly toying with the hair at the back of his neck "Who's to say I'll say yes?"

"I am," Marco beamed. "Plus you did throw a _fit_ when I mentioned something to the contrary."

"Guess I'll promise to say yes then," Jean mused as he kissed him again "so long as you're good to me until then. It'd be...an offer I couldn't _refuse."_

Marco's expression fell as he watched Jean's pathetic attempt to try to hold in his laughter "Dammit Jean."

"Hahaha, sorry it was too easy," he chuckled.

"Uh huh, listen, you're in Italy. One of the most romantic countries in the world. What's something you want to do? Name it."

"It's dark out Marco. There isn't much we can do."

"Please. Humor me."

"I suppose I did always think it'd be fun to ride on the river."

"Perfect then. The Arno river is famous for this," Marco laughed wildly and took him by the hand leading Jean back they way they had come. He hadn't thought that river tours operated in the late evening but he supposed he was wrong about that too. Everything was new and more than just a bit foreign so he handed control over to Marco. Being led down to the river by him was rather fun until they approached a guide. The man was young, definitely a few years younger than himself with a tall slender frame and slight facial hair beginning to shadow his bold jawline. In the moment his eyes went to Marco they widened in what Jean guessed was horror as he stuttered out something in Italian.

Marco lowered his head "I am not here to scare you. Forgive me if my presence is unnerving. I am no threat to you unless you are to me or him."

"N-No s-s-sir. I--"

Jean stepped forward clearly recognizing the frantic boy's behavior "It's alright. I know you must speak English well enough to provide tours to tourists like myself so trust me when I say that I _promise_ it's alright."

Turning his caramel gaze to Jean the man placed his hands on his shoulders "You are tourist? May I speak with you privately?"

"If you're going to ask what I'm doing with him," he pointed back towards Marco "I am in no danger and I know exactly who he is. You're in no danger from either of us. What is your name?"

"Cesare," he responded with a calmed breath. "If you know who this man is then you are part of his family?"

"In a way. It's nice to meet you Cesare, I'm Jean, I'm from Los Angeles, California in the US. I've never been here before and I'd love to see the river if you wouldn't mind. We can pay you for your troubles, very well I might add," Jean smiled, attempting to bribe the boy into operating for them.

Taking it, the boy agreed "Uh, sure. I do not feel as though you pose me a threat though him....he is uh, _frightening."_

"Not to me," Jean responded as he waved Marco over "pay the boy and let's go."

Narrowing his eyes Marco did as asked "Sure. You are getting very sneaky you know. Quite a silver tongue you have there."

"Thanks." Jean got into the wooden watercraft with Marco's help as the boy pushed away from the bank.

"You know there are only five of these barchetto left in Florence. It's an original, right boy? Marco called as he informed Jean of the history.

Cesare nodded "Ah, yes, sir."

"That's very interesting, Cesare," Jean replied softly.

With a pause, he turned to them "I'm sorry, I just...I've never thought this would happen. I heard stories and I--"

Marco cut him off before he could continue, walking carefully towards the boy to lift his eyepatch "The stories are true, my boy. Whatever your mother and father told you are probably correct. I am who you think I am but I do not harm those who mean no harm to me. Please, do not worry, just steer the boat and get us to the outskirts."

Staring in awe Cesare nodded his head furiously "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Lady Catherine told us to be good or the families would find us."

Jean huffed and tugged Marco back down to him, leaning on his shoulder "Don't be afraid Cesare. Do _I_ look afraid?"

"No, you do not. May I ask you a question, sir?" He posed shakily.

"What is it?" Marco asked before snuggling closer to Jean.

"I thought they didn't allow gay men into the families," he stated with an inflection awaiting Marco to finish it.

"Haha, we're a little more progressive these days. Though perhaps your nuns taught you to be careful of what you speak in public. I am who I am and Jean makes no difference to my blood or birthright. If you were interested I'd say follow your nose to a path of a winding rose where a man kneels only to cleanse himself before exiting to stain himself red," Marco gave the kind a wicked grin and Jean looked up smacking him on the knee.

Cesare gave a soft hum "Mmm, I think I know where you're talking about. If I go there what I do find?"

 _"Family,"_ Marco answered swiftly "if you're in need of one. How old are you?"

"16, sir."

"I see. You know, I hate to mix business with pleasure. I'm not that sort of man but if you are searching for an answer to the problem you face in 2 years you may meet with me in my study upon our departure if you so wish."

"Sir, I appreciate that. How did you know about the age--"

"Just because I had a mother growing up doesn't mean all my friends did. The Nightingale could have trained you before now if you were serious."

"I just never thought I could get in.....and I like working this job. It is fun to tour."

"You wouldn't have to stop. All I ask from buttons are simple tasks to be done in a timely manner when distributed to my capo. Simple running of errands for example delivering a letter of mine to a nearby province, travel expenses included. Pay is bi-weekly not including any cuts of my own and--"

Jean sent a hard smack to Marco's shoulder rocking the boat "Are you doing what I _think_ you're doing in the middle of our impromptu date? Marco Darien Bodt Martello you leave this boy alone and shut up!"

"Really?" Marco sighed "Listen, how else do you think I gain soliders? Some just....find a way. Like me."

"Cesare," Jean smiled warmly "I do believe if you need a place to turn that Marco can help but you should think it over rather than work on impulse. I chose this for myself and I've never been happier but ultimately you need to decide if it's best for you."

The boy looked to Jean with a wide grin "Thank you very much. I do believe fate is at work here tonight. Though I admit I am scared of what I have heard I do believe I would like to take you up on your offer, sir. There is not much for me for available with my education and training. I have promise here."

"In fact you would be able to have a decent life. My people are very well taken care from the top of the chain to the bottom. Without soldiers I am not an organization of worthy title. I will arrange to have you stay in one of the overnight rooms on the compound. Tomorrow you may have a meeting with me when I am able. Though I am a busy man most of the time," Marco chuckled and kissed Jean's forehead "sometimes I shirk my duties and run away to have a night to make sure my boyfriend knows that I love him more than I love _anything_ on this earth. If there is anyone on this boat you should be scared of, Cesare, it's him."

Jean wiggled away from him as he implicated he was to be feared "Listen, I'm only scary when people disobey my orders or when something involves you. Cesare should have nothing to be afraid of."

"You _shot_ a kid in the foot for coming into my study unannounced," Marco mentioned.

"He disobeyed my _order._ Instinct just took over. Now, can I just enjoy this before you ruin everything tonight?" He glared over at Marco with prominent disdain.

"I suppose so," he replied and tugged Jean back to his chest. It was such a peaceful atmosphere. Lingering on the water, gliding beneath bridges and past small shops and homes, it was quaint. Together with Marco enjoying the moment was an option he knew he wouldn't get often. Just like he said, Marco was a busy man and he was going to get busier so he had to enjoy the moments like this when they arrived and be sure to take all he could get. He was thinking it might just be best to go ahead and see what all he could get from Marco since this was supposed to be their night.

While Cesare guided the boat along the river Jean pulled Marco closer claiming his lips softly. It was as if the world around them no longer existed. Just Marco's warmth, his kiss, and the sound of the water splashing was all he was able to process. Losing himself into something so simple was a curse. He found himself wanting more than tiramisu tinged kisses Marco was obliging him with yet he knew there was no having anything more than that. In public this was pushing it anyhow but even then, it just didn't feel like enough for him.

Kissing his neck, Jean moved up to nibble at his earlobe "It's such a _shame_ we're in public, Marco."

As his fingers traced up his knee Marco cleared his throat "Yes it is. We're not too far from home though......can you wait?"

 _"Maybe_ , we'll see I suppose," Jean purred sensually against his skin before kissing his cheek and resting his head atop Marco's shoulder.

Calling to Cesare Marco asked "How close can you get us to Le Volpi e l'Uva?"

"Extremely," he responded. "Is that where you'd like to go?"

"Please," Marco nodded before removing his cell phone. Jean watched from over his shoulder as he quickly typed out a few directives sending them out to he assumed his capo to give out to their men. "Don't worry. Leave your barchetto here I have someone coming to watch over it for you. You may join us when my consigliere arrives." As Marco spoke sternly the boy nodded his head and within a few moments they were arriving at a dock just across the road from the small bar they'd been at earlier. He'd have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't the least bit curious as to how everything managed to work out so perfectly but then again, it was Marco and he found ways to always make something work.

Accepting Marco's help out of the boat Jean got to his feet on the dock and awaited Cesare to finish his necessary mooring. Once he'd finished the three of them walked across the road to the bar where Michael was waiting with the car. Jean was lost as Marco began spouting off directives in Italian to the men who'd arrived with him. He gestured back towards the dock and two suited men bowed to Marco and himself then walked off. Jean quelled his curious tongue and instead opted to watch as Cesare introduced himself to Michael and Marco informed him of the actions that had taken place.....at least he assumed thats what they were doing.

When they all got into the car Cesare was referred to the front of the vehicle while Marco and Jean were in the back. Michael was speaking to him, more than likely discussing why that was but Jean was too busy thinking of what to do when he got Marco back to the bedroom. In fact, while Cesare and Michael were conversing Jean tugged Marco's tie and grinned wildly. Giving into the urge, Marco kissed him once before he pushed Jean back by the shoulder. Before Jean could object to the behavior Marco raised an index finger over his lips as he was trying to listen into the discussion in the front seat of the car.

Pouting, Jean rolled his eyes and leaned against the window. He'd just been shot down so he could eavesdrop? What an ass. If he'd been serious about earlier there was a snowball's chance in hell Marco was getting any tonight after _that_ stunt. Really, who exactly turned down making out just so they could listen in on a conversation that was just simple introductions and rules to follow? Ugh. Marco was in his business mind frame again and he didn't think there was much else he could do about it aside from sit back and glare while he pouted internally.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my charging cord for my computer is out. That being said I have ordered a replacement but it'll get here in fuck knows how long. Im using the last of battery to update for y'all. Happy Easter (early) to those who celebrate and to those who don't happy lich Jesus day xD have some shower smut!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

The drive was short but his frustration was massive. Once they got to the drive Jean opened his own door and headed to the door himself. He heard Michael mention his name and he guessed it was something about how he was bullheaded when he heard the word _"tenace"_. He'd remembered that one. Marco arrived at his side with Michael and Cesare in several strides, punched in the door's access code and stepped across the threshold with ease. Jean was the first one to bid them goodnight as he headed up the stairs and to the bedroom where he sat the satchel down at Marco's desk. He didn't know if he'd been followed or not but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Stripping down he examined the slash at his upper thigh, noting how it had sutured together rather well. His stitches had dissolved and he was able to take a shower without having to make sure they didn't get wet. Without having a pre-shower routine to follow he simply jumped into the shower hoping to the let the water melt away his stress. He'd remembered part of why he hated dressing for events, he hated getting the gel out of his hair, but once he looked down he remembered something else. He'd forgotten to take off Marco's ring. It was dripping water, sparkling beneath the bright lighting and the more he stared at it the more he realized he couldn't exactly be mad at Marco for taking an opportunity that had presented itself. If he had been in the same position he probably would have taken it too. He could, however, be irritated at the way he'd blown him off. That was still unacceptable.

Almost as if he knew he'd given him some leeway he heard Marco's footsteps. They'd entered the bedroom and stopped just short of the bathroom door which was odd. They showered together almost every morning, it wasn't like he wasn't used to Marco just walking in. For some reason he wasn't entering the bathroom though.

Raising his voice over the pelting water Jean heard Marco's call "Jean?"

Deciding to answer Jean huffed "What? You waiting for an invitation?"

Opening the door Marco slipped through and locked the door behind him "Perhaps. I didn't think you'd shower without me. It's quite rude of you."

Hearing the tone rising in his voice Jean slammed the breaks "Oh no it's not. You wanna talk about rude? What about brushing me off to eavesdrop huh? Rude."

Cringing at his words Marco sighed admitting his defeat "It was. I apologize but I had to hear the way he spoke. Now, I do need to shower and I do need to make things up to you. Should I wait until after your shower?"

Pushing open the stall door Jean rolled his eyes "Oh please. You think I want to sleep with you after that?"

Slipping out of his blazer Marco shrugged dejectedly "I don't know. I guess I should just shower and get out of your hair."

"Yeah I might recommend that if you want to keep all your fingers," Jean sneered as he stepped back into the shower. He had no will to deal with Marco's theatrics at the moment, he just wanted to relax. Trying to focus his mind on returning to his activities, such as washing himself, Jean turned his back to the glass door. Try as hard as he might it was still hard to prevent his mind from wishing to take a peek at Marco discarding his clothing. Color was truly a magnificent gift and he was really hoping seeing every inch of Marco's skin was just as spectacular in color as it was in his usual monochromatic color scheme.

Jean didn't have to let his mind linger on his hope much longer. While his back was turned away from the door he felt a cool rush of air surround him. The steam had vacated the enclosed space for a just a moment as Marco had stepped into the shower. Stepping aside he let Marco in his place while he tried to not stare. It was like staring into the sun: if he stared directly it was too much, but if he stared through something else it was fine. Using the glass siding of the shower he was able to catch reflections of just how incredibly beautiful Marco truly was. His stomach flipped as he felt Marco's skin brush his own while reaching for the shampoo. Turning to hand it to him, Jean cursed himself.

Wet hair falling around his face, almost in his eyes, bright silver eye sparkling and a glimmering umber eye meeting his, toned, tanned body in front of him......why was Marco fucking Bodt so goddamn gorgeous?! His smile radiantly shining back at him, knowing that he was staring mouth agape, in awe, Marco just held out his hand awaiting Jean to hand him the bottle. Once it was resting in the palm of his hand he smirked and waited. Knowing he was practically shaking with unsated desire Jean had to admit it to himself that he always wanted to sleep with Marco, especially if he was going to apologize to him by touching him. That might be exactly what he needed to do.

Giving in to the urge Jean rushed Marco, tossing his arms over his neck and kissing him feverishly. Dropping the shampoo bottle from his hand Marco sought to place his only free hand at the back of Jean's neck. Locking his fingers around the longer strands of his hair Marco tugged him back. Clearly he'd expected the pounce just not the strength of said attack. Staggering backwards Marco felt his back hit the wall, wincing as the force reverberated through his body.

"Damn, Jean," Marco panted "are you trying to fuck me or _kill_ me?"

"I don't know, maybe both? It's too unfair," Jean exhaled as he began to hastily mouth down Marco's throat desperate for his taste.

"Unfair?" Marco questioned as he turned his jaw.

"You know it as well as I do Marco. You're beyond ridiculously beautiful," he answered.

Pushing him back and securing his control over the actions at hand Marco grinned "Thank you. I love it when you flatter me but you know I find you all the more attractive correct?"

Jean pulled a hoop through his lip in his teeth "It's nice to hear you say that after you were so _mean_ to me earlier."

Marco hummed pleasantly "Mhmmm, I'm sorry for brushing you away earlier, love. How do I make it up to you? Is there something you want me to do? Or should I just do what I please with you? You do like it a bit rough."

Hearing the lilt of his voice as he spoke made his skin prick despite the rush of hot water "I don't know Marco," he lulled "why don't you tell me what you _want_ to do to me?"

"What I want is liberal use of my left arm so I could lift you and fuck you in the shower while watching how that stunningly gorgeous face contorts with pure ecstasy when you scream for me over, and over, and over again," Marco whispered as he nipped the shell of Jean's ear.

In response Jean snickered and hooked his ankle around Marco's calf "Sounds delightful....too bad you're injured...maybe I could help.."

Marco quirked a brow at Jean's rising leg as he questioned Jean's intent "Help me, huh? Show me _how."_ Dragging his hands down Marco's neck and chest he gave him a playful little lip curl and turned against the wall. Palms resting flat against the glass surface he bent and gave an enticing shake of his hips whilst glancing over his shoulder to watch Marco clear his throat. Seeing those eyes glimmer with his lusting thoughts was breathtaking.

As he stood back up he twisted to reach a hand out for Marco's face. Feeling the stubble beginning to come in as his fingertips brushed against his chin was new but alluring. The slight roughness as he beckoned him closer was providing him several new ideas. He began to wonder just how it might feel rushing over other areas of his body, much more sensitive areas. Marco's hand fell to his right hip as he stood flush against him, kissing him softly before kissing his neck giving Jean the feeling he'd wondered of. It sent shivers down his spine as he discovered he quite liked the scrape of the scruff of Marco's 5 o'clock shadow.

Discovering the way Jean's body sank into the action Marco kissed down his spine "That would be helpful. But before you do it again how about facing me, huh? Let me see you before I can't." Obeying, Jean turned in his embrace letting his words die on his tongue as Marco's lips immediately sought out marking down his chest. His unbridled moan echoed throughout the bathroom as Marco busied himself with teasing him, toying with his nipple rings as he pulled them in his mouth. The heat of his breath and the pleasure from the tug of the rings had him biting his lip to keep from having to hear himself again. Hearing his own cries of pleasure was not something he wanted.

Just because he didn't want it, however, didn't mean that it was also the case for Marco. While sliding down his body Marco ran a hand up his inner thigh, caressing his skin as he littered Jean's hips in sharp nips and kisses. His scruff scraped down his skin causing Jean to release an undignified squeak which gave Marco an utmost sense of satisfaction. Rushing his hand over his mouth Jean tried his damnedest to keep himself from making another peep but that was going to be a much harder goal than he anticipated as Marco's hand moved around his cock stroking him until fully erect.

Something about Marco on his knees for him was more than arousing. Being with Marco and making him feel a fraction of what he gave to him was amazing but seeing a man as powerful as Marco Bodt on his knees was sensational. Making Marco squirm was a power trip in and of itself but it was nothing like this. He'd said in the meeting Jean was the only man he would kneel to and apologizing by way of proving it was quite nice. The feeling of his lips pressing into skin, of his tongue lapping lazily up his length, and the heat of his mouth once engulfed completely were one hell of an apology.

Fingers tangling in the drenched strands of Marco's hair, Jean leaned his head back against the glass wishing to bask in the pleasure running through his body. It didn't matter where he was, Marco was always beyond skilled with his mouth; from talking people into things, talking Jean out of his clothes, kissing, and things of a far more sexual nature. Reducing him to a puddle of incoherence was a skill Marco could do with just the simplest of actions and in the moment it was as if it were a week ago when they'd first expressed the true nature of their feelings for one another.

Marco wanted to be with him for the rest of his life and the feeling was mutual. Thinking that thought, however, was almost too potent for him to handle. Getting to enjoy the throes of wild passion with Marco for as long as he lived sounded like something he could get used to. He'd promised his life to him just a mere hours ago and enjoying what he had plenty more to come of was immense. It was another emotional vulnerability and the lack of time together that made for a far more volatile combination. Maybe it was just Marco in general.....after all being connected in an expression of emotion physically with someone that you love is vastly different than a bedding a different stray when needing a release.

His mind might've continued with it's thought process had it not been interrupted by a fire raging in his abdomen. He was unable to stop the arduous moan tumbling from his lips as a surprising slick digit thrust it's way into his body. Had he been lost in his own mind, in the pleasure, long enough to forget the rest of the actions at hand? Eyes wide, he glanced down to see Marco with an ear to ear grin just before kissing his thigh.

"Mmm, did I surprise you?" He asked in a teasing whisper. Only a whimper sounded in the back of his throat as he opened his mouth to speak. Marco nuzzled against his thigh as he curled and thrust the digit inside him "I'll take that as a yes. I told you once I'm a jealous man, Jean. I don't like it when you aren't focused on me, or what I'm _doing_ to you, when we're being intimate. What were you so lost in, hmm?" Seeing the flare in his eyes Jean tried to find his ability to speak, clearing his mind.

"That this is a great apology," he managed before Marco thrust into him particularly hard, taking his breath.

Not buying it, Marco pushed for another answer "Are you _sure_ of that? Nothing else?"

Jean nodded "Yes! God, Marco. I was just thinking of how amazing it's going to be if this is what I get for the rest of my life. I love you. I swear that's what I was thinking!"

Blinking owlishly Marco stared for a moment and nipped his thigh "Good boy. I suppose I should reward you then." Adding a second digit, Marco thrust into him causing another moan to free itself from Jean's throat as his hand smacked against the glass. The echo of his own voice bouncing from wall to wall flushed his entire body. Rosy hue creeping into every inch of his skin, Jean wished he could have hidden himself away from the world but it only seemed to spur on Marco's actions as he thrust into him harder, faster, seeking to find the sweet spot as his splayed fingers scissored and splayed inside him rubbing against the muscular walls. Once his magical fingers probed into his prostate Jean found himself biting his fist to prevent him from making anymore inhuman noises.

Seeking to cause him to make those noises Marco only drilled into the spot harder. Though he was determined to not make so much as a peep Marco always found a way to make sure he did what he liked. If Marco wanted to hear his sounds he'd find a way to make sure he got them and this time that was slow his pace to slower than that of a snail's. Within just a few moments of the torturous activity Jean tugged at Marco's hair. Looking up Marco raised his eyebrows and kissed up his thighs, dragging his chin over his skin and watching Jean shudder before clamping his teeth down just at the inside of his left thigh, painfully close to his new scarring wound.

 _"Ah!~ Marco!"_ Jean shouted as his knee wobbled just slightly beneath him.

Smiling Marco sighed "There's what I'm after. Won't you indulge me, Jean, _please baby?_ Let me hear you." There wasn't a way in hell he would ever be able to say no to those pleading eyes so he nodded and squeezed his eyes shut as Marco hastened his actions drawing forth a healthy plethora of moans and mewls. By the third finger inside him Jean was begging for Marco. A fire had seeped into his bones from his stomach to his loins, and the only thing able to sate the roaring flame was Marco. He'd turned to face the wall, pulling Marco to him to kiss him deeply before he couldn't any longer.

Retrieving the lubricant from the corner of the shower Marco slicked a layer over himself and kissed Jean's shoulder. It was a sweet courtesy. A small, reassuring warmth against his shoulder that he loved. There was no time to think of it again as Marco began the push into his body drawing a low moan from Jean and a hiss of pleasure from Marco's clenched jaw. Unfortunately there was nothing to keep his grip as Marco rocked his hips throwing him off balance and of course with Marco's injury he couldn't push his hips back to match Marco's rhythm as hard as he normally did unless he wanted to pitch Marco off balance as well.

In all honesty perhaps they should have thought it through more. A night of shower limbic lust that was enough to scorch his veins and sate the longing in his bones... it had sounded fantastic in theory but was definitely a bit harder in practice. Sure, both Marco and Jean enjoyed hard, nail raking, bite mark leaving, hair pulling rough sex but it was hard to do that when limits had to be placed. They both tried their best to ensure that they could both definitely have what they wanted. Marco mouthed at his throat, down his back leaving a wake of bruised flesh and dug a hold into his hips leaving shallow, crescent shaped welts as he secured his grasp. Jean pushed back to meet him as best as he could allowing every moan, every pant, every slick sound of their skin colliding and the water splashing over them to be heard.

He would drive himself farther to his own orgasm, coiling a hand around his cock and stroking himself in tandem with Marco's thrust. Marco's lips ghosting over his skin, feeling his panting breath on his neck, helped him urge himself farther, faster, into his climax. The steam in the shower and the heat of the water was beginning to make them both lightheaded, and a bit faint, but they were so close. Just a little more of Marco's filthy mouth asking how much he liked it, how hard he should go, if the sounds of them together turned him on more, if he accepted his apology or if he needed to fuck him harder would send him over the edge.

 _"God, Marco!~~ Harder! Right thereee!~ Oh, god...oh god Marco!~~"_ All it took was his own orgasm crashing into him like a ton of bricks to cause the moans of Marco's name to fall over his lips. As the emission clung to the glass, sliding down it slowly before the stream of water washed most of it down the drain, Jean felt his knees weaken and his resolve crumble. Marco gave a few thrusts before a slew of Italian fell over his lips and he reached his own apex leaving Jean to grimace as he felt a different warmth pool in his abdomen and seep down the backs of his thighs.

Marco kissed his neck and sighed "Sorry. I'll make up for that one next time."

Scrunching his features Jean grumbled _"You better."_ He leaned against the wall letting it take the brunt of his weight while he gained the ability to stand on his own two feet. Marco stood with him helping him clean up a bit. After all, they had gotten dirty together it was only fair they get clean together as well. Jean was thankful for that mentality as he as he assisted Marco with washing his hair and his body. He could finally stare in close proximity, in color, at Marco's body. His fingers searched and crawled over his skin as if it were something new.

Laughing a bit Marco noticed and couldn't resist calling him out "Are you so interested in my body, Jean?"

"Of course," he responded quickly "I can finally see all of you the way you look to other people but mostly I get this to myself. I get to have you all to myself and I can enjoy it right now."

"How about when we lay down I'll let you look all you want? Touch wherever you wanna touch," Marco offered with a smile.

"Sure," Jean answered "I guess we do need to finish getting clean." He pushed up just enough to plant a kiss on Marco's cheek. The suds were washing away from their skin and hair leaving a clean shine in their wake and a fresh scent in the air. After helping one get out of the shower and dry off Marco stepped over to the vanity where Jean helped him with the dressings for his various wounds. Luckily the smaller ones had since closed in the almost 3 weeks he'd received them but the biggest wound he'd sustained was still trying to heal completely. Marco still had pain when trying to use his arm but soon his physical therapy would start and he'd have to get through it. Until the wound completely healed, however, he would have to deal with it.

Once he finished dressing the wound and gauging it's healing progress the two headed into the bedroom clad only in their boxers. Before laying down Marco opened the night stand drawer and removed the pistol from earlier making sure it was loaded and the safety was off. Jean stared as he then lifted the edge of the mattress to withdraw his curved dagger and a sickle blade. Why he was withdrawing his blades he had no idea. Jean looked up to him perhaps appearing more befuddled than he'd met to. Marco returned the dagger to it's previous location, placed the sickle beneath his pillow, and climbed into bed, beckoning Jean over to him.

As Jean lay on his chest examining his skin, tracing the galaxy-like freckled patterns Marco spoke softly "You enjoying tracing my freckles?"

"Mhmm," he replied lazily "I'm making constellations. Can I look wherever I want?"

"Of course. I am yours to do with as you please," he chuckled softly. He'd not expected Jean to jump straight to his dick but he supposed Jean was never one to dance around what he wanted. Tugging down his boxers, he examined every inch of his freckle mapped skin laughing at his shock when he wasted no time getting into his pants. Just for a laugh he placed a kiss to his hip and pulled his boxers back up. He then studied his stomach closely letting his fingers ghost over his abs and the various discolored scars littering his skin.

Jean laid back down after a few more moments, resting his head on Marco's chest "You really are so beautiful even with all those scars."

"They all tell a story, one I'm happy for. My life would be utterly dull without you, Jean, so I'm going to say this right now: get some sleep," Marco's tone had fallen, assuming something far darker. He was implicating something he did not like the sound of.

"Marco," Jean whispered "what's going on?"

"Jean. I need you to remain calm and try to sleep."

"What's going on?"

"That boy from the boat is going to try to _kill_ us." Eyes bugging from his skull Jean was about to scream before Marco covered his mouth "Shhh!"

Jean softened his voice as he poked a finger at him "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Have you had facial expression negation training? No?" Marco poked the furrow in his brow "That's why. Even the slightest change would have tipped him off. I knew the moment we got into the boat and his information was wrong. He doesn't even know his history about Florence."

More than a bit out of his element Jean asked "What do we do now?"

"We wait," Marco answered softly. "He'll most likely aim for a few hours in the middle of the night. I need to find out who trained him, who wants me dead this time, and who's next in line for the contract when he doesn't come back."

A hint of worry began to crease Jean's brows as he wrapped his arms around Marco " _This time?_  Marco?"

"You're concerned. I know that but we'll be fine, babe. We always will be. Now, I need you to try to sleep, okay? I'm going to be awake and if you need to know there is a knife on your side of the bed underneath the mattress directly across from the nightstand," Marco used the arm over Jean's shoulders to gesture over to the bed.

Nestling closer Jean cringed "I don't like this Marco. How am I supposed to sleep knowing this?"

"Call it part of your training," Marco replied softly. "A life with me is having to do these things. Just try, okay? Don't worry. It'll be alright. _I promise."_ That phrase again. That same promise that almost cost them both their lives. Jean hated hearing it but he did know that he meant they'd be fine. Honestly, he was tired. He was spent and he did want to sleep but the idea of someone coming to kill them wasn't exactly the perfect bedtime story. Laying there closing his eyes as Marco played with the hair at the base of his neck was comforting but it was still hard to relax.

After a half hour of laying atop Marco almost perfectly still he was finally able to let himself sleep. It was by no means a deep sleep. Something as small as a rodent chewing, a creak in the floor, or a heavy gust of wind could have woken him. Even Marco had allowed himself to drift off. Though asleep Marco remained as Jean did, hyper aware of everything moving through the house yet to much more finely tuned sense than Jean. His training prepared him for things of this nature. After all it was not the first assassin to ever try to kill him in his own bed and he was rather doubtful it'd be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 4/25/17 - Well, everyone, I had plans to update today as I received my charger in the mail. Unfortunately I learned the last story I had open when my computer shut down and restarted was this one. I have worked on this story for a year. I finished it on April 14th, 2017 and created the file on April 14th, 2016. I've never been so upset to simply lose 140k. I hold this story very close to my heart and now there is a mass chunk missing. It may seem silly to you all but I'm a silly person I suppose. I do not, however, believe in going down without a fight. Even if it takes me all month I promise you guys I'm gonna finish this story again. You will have everything you need to know but bear with me. It will take me a while to get back into this headspace okay?


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know most of you know it's been a very long while since this updated. I planned on giving them all to you at once. I will be doing that after this chapter just so you all know that others are waiting to be released with it. I should finish it up again in a few weeks and then you will have one big MASS update. Until then, I hope that this will tie some of you over. Be patient, guys, as I have much more to do with school work and things. Just know I am writing still but it is taking a bit. I hope that you enjoy this almost 6k update!
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Of course there wasn’t much time that Marco had to wait until he heard the creak and wobble of the lattice by the veranda. How exactly was this kid scaling the veranda making that much fucking noise? Marco’s eyes rolled back as he tried to let it pass. Sending someone that fucking bumbled and fumbled their way into a target’s house wasn’t exactly something that Marco knew to be fair. Someone had sent this lamb to the slaughter and it wasn’t just to say that a new group was coming after him; this was a courtesy call. This kid was sent after one of the best assassins in the world and he couldn’t get his history right, his backstory straight, his actions were gaudy, and he would about bet his skills were subpar in combat.

He was about to find out just how simple this was going to be when he heard the glass door slide open. Deciding to lay in bed, perfectly still, Marco opted to give the kid a chance to get as close to him as possible without making a noise. Strike one was his first step into the room. His step was loud and caused the floor to creak. If he was this bad the bastard should have just come through the front bedroom door and waved a knife around. The kid’s second strike was running into the armoire in the corner of the room and scooting it across the floor. With a heavy sigh Marco slipped easily to his feet and nudged Jean with an elbow.

Immediately bounding from the bed, Jean rolled out and tried his best to recall how to get to the front door while the room was plunged into pitch darkness. He knew that Marco would be alright considering that no one outside his people knew the real reason Marco kept his silver eye covered. As much as he hated the idea of Marco facing off with an assassin in their bedroom he knew the kid didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell squaring up to Marco. With his advantage of being able to see so perfectly in the dark Marco's moves were precise and calculated while it appeared the kid’s moves paled in comparison. From his standpoint, he knew that Marco was enjoying it as he watched the stripes on his face glowing and illuminating Marco’s pearly smile while it stretched almost ear to ear.

Brandishing his sickle blade, Marco carefully circled the boy with a feline grin. At this point it truly was just a cat batting around a mouse before it pounced. A wide slash out towards Marco’s ribs only had him laughing as he easily sidestepped the blow. The action was slow and too easily seen but Marco’s was not. Quickly he took a step out to the left and used his sickle blade taking an upwards slash just shallow enough to avoid the median artery of the boy’s forearm. Blood splashed to the ground as he heard a hiss of pain and so Marco flourished a step back allowing the boy to attempt another attack on him. Growing angry in the midst of attacks, the boy made one lunge for him that Marco just groaned about.

As the knife missed Marco’s chest he grabbed the boy’s injured forearm, digging his fingertips into the slice forcing him to hit his knees and drop the knife. This was far too easy for him. Someone sent such a fucking amateur after him and he knew then that it definitely was just a formality to warn him of the others that were going to be following in the imbecile's footsteps.

Once the boy was staring up at him, Marco sneered and secured his blade around his throat “How dare you think you can come here after me! They led you to me like a sacrifice to a vengeful god, boy.” Shifting his head over his shoulder, Marco sighed “Jean, baby, would you gently raise the lights for me please?”

Nodding, Jean searched blindly for the dimmer on the wall and gradually rose the lights just enough to prevent Marco from hurting himself “Are you okay? What do we do now, Marco?”

Scoffing, Marco shrugged his shoulders “Seriously? This boy is so pathetic he couldn’t assassinate a fucking beetle. _Of course_ I’m alright. As for what you do when I leave the room; you’ll press the fourth speed dial on my phone, inform Michael I’ve taken him for information, and then wait here. I’ll send for you soon.” Before Jean could even think of a way to respond Marco was guiding Cesare out of the bedroom at knife point and escorting him someplace he was unsure of. Jean allowed himself to sit back on the bed as the events began to replay in his head. When he recalled what Krista said, that Marco enjoyed the gruesome acts, he knew that she was right. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Marco enjoyed it but perhaps it was the challenge in it and the payback for trying to kill them in their sleep.

Whatever it was he didn’t truly care to know. He did wonder where exactly Marco was taking him while dressed only in his boxers. The thought made his mind run before he realized that he hadn’t called Michael. Rolling over to Marco’s side of the bed, he began to search for Marco’s phone. Upon locating it he then quickly swiped the lock away and dialed the fourth speed dial.

“Marco?” Michael answered swiftly.

Jean replied softly “Uh, no, Jean. He told me to call you because that boy from--”

“Was an assassin, yes, I take it Marco has dispatched of him?” He asked flatly as if this were such a normal occurrence.

“I guess? He just said to tell you he was taking him for information,” Jean answered.

There was a momentary pause before Michael responded “Very well. Thank you, Jean, I advise that you get some rest. It will be a long night for Marco. If you need anything please call.” Jean couldn’t respond before the line went dead and the only thing in his ear was silence. How the hell was he supposed to sleep when his heart was still pounding?! Adrenaline was only a good thing when he was in danger because it allowed him to push himself but it often came with the downside of making him tired, extremely fatigued, which most people didn’t understand. One’s body became drained of energy after expending it so quickly and at the moment he was too far on edge, too hopped up, to even get to that point yet. Without something to use his energy on he was too hyper vigilant to sleep but then he saw something he could do.

Since Marco had sliced the kid in the bedroom there was a decent amount of blood on the floor. It wasn’t too much but it was enough to have been smeared on the round and tracked out of the bedroom. Climbing off the bed, he grabbed a wet towel and some cleaning supplies from the bathroom and began to scrub at the floors in hopes of removing it. He wasn’t aware of how much time was passing as he even moved to follow Marco’s bloody footprints down to the kitchen. They’d stopped at the back door and he had a feeling he knew why but he pushed the thought away as a large yawn came over him.

Maybe after that he’d be able to at least get some sleep. Once he cleaned the rust colored stains from his hands he moved to Marco’s side of the bed and curled up. Inhaling his scent automatically forced him to relax. In a way, just smelling Marco as he lay enveloped in the warmth of their shared bed soothed him to his very core. Somewhere in him he knew what Marco was doing and just because he didn’t like it didn’t mean it wasn’t a necessary evil. Just as he closed his eyes he heard a door downstairs open and close. He tried to ignore it but he heard footsteps carefully padding up to the bedroom.

Upon instinct he reached for the pistol in the side table and aimed the barrel at the door as it opened. Without so much as flinching Michael bowed his head and gestured his hand towards the door.

“Excuse me for interrupting,” he stated softly “Marco requests your presence in the compound.”

Trying to calm himself, Jean lowered the pistol _“Jesus Christ,_ Michael, you scared the fucking hell out of me.”

“My apologies, sir,” he replied with his head still lowered.

Jean got out of bed and threw on a pair of Marco’s sweats, a simple t-shirt, and slipped on a pair of sneakers “It’s alright. Just, next time, I might accidentally shoot you. I’m on edge right now. Did Marco tell you why he wants me?” Raising his head Michael just kept silent and led the way that Marco’s bloody footsteps had. Of course Jean had been out into the compound of the grounds. Several outbuildings were positioned scattered about the property but one always disturbed him. It seemed they were walking right towards the farthest building on the edge of the property. Nestled against a thick woodline, the wooden outbuilding was secured with chains over the door fastened with a heavy padlock and it’s lack of windows always put him a little over the top of suspicious. When Michael led him inside the damp, dank building he had a hard time understanding why it was locked up.

Scanning the room, as a light bulb hung on a swaying cord dimly lighting the tool shed, Jean began to feel like he over reacted a little bit. According to the items inside it was just a simple a tool shed used by the landscapers to store their things. Well, at least that was what he thought for all of three minutes before Michael led him over to the back of the small space. In the floor of the building was a heavy metal door that seemed to also be bolted with a chain. For some reason it had been removed and that appeared to be where the two were headed. Michael gave him a grin unlike one he’d ever seen on the man’s face. It gave him more cause for concern as he jerked the metal door open.

Almost immediately he knew why Michael had grinned at him like that; that toothy, crooked smile that said he knew something Jean didn’t. It was a thick, pungent, metallic odor that practically knocked Jean off his feet. Doubling over for a moment as he fought the onslaught of revolting scents, Jean had to force himself to get a grip. This was not the time to get squeamish. Michael gestured for him to enter the concealed metal stairs leading to a room beneath the building first. Jean sent him a particularly icy glare and fought his instinct to retch as he descended the stairs. Around him was a two sectioned room. He’d stopped just off the stairs and looked around to see the smeared, stained walls of the room. Claw marks were dug deep into the wood leaving thick grooves and tunnels while the ground was just as littered with blood.

Only when Jean looked up to see the glass stretching across the room and a singular door did he understand what the wall was for. Inside, thick padding insulated the area making it virtually soundproof. This room was made for torturing people. Just the thought made Jean sick to his stomach but even worse than that was the fact he could see Marco had already begun. Dressed in a white butcher’s coat, Marco paced around the room holding a thin flaying knife that he’d obviously already used on the man as he was hooked to an intravenous solution most likely keeping him from going into cardiac arrest. The sight of Marco's face, hands, and chest splattered with blood made him almost violently ill. It sent flashbacks rushing through his mind, showing him Paris all over again.

Thankfully, Michael placed a hand on his shoulder and moved him forward "He wishes you inside. Do not let it frighten you, Jean, this man has information we need about the people who sent him. If we do not get it then we cannot prepare for the next assassin they send." As he said that Jean watched Marco turn around and wave a hand to beckon him inside "If you don't wish to dirty yourself wear a coat. Marco informed me this would be a part of your training so, please, go on." Michael gestured to the rack of three, hanging white butcher's coats. The instant that Jean stepped over to the rack of coats he felt a wave of nausea washing over him but he knew that he had to settle himself. If this was truly going to be a part of his training then he couldn't let it get to him.

Carefully, he slipped on one of the white coats and moved into the room. Along the left wall were various knives and instruments he wasn't even aware of. Below the hanging of items was a table filled with syringes of various liquids, spray bottles, medical instruments, and things Jean didn't even want to venture a guess at. What threw him off kilter most was looking at Cesare sitting in the middle of the room as Marco continued to pace back and forth in front of him. A thick wooden chair had been equipped with chains and leather straps that kept him held effectively to the chair. At the ankles he was cuffed, his waist was cinched tightly against the back, wrist straps kept his arms flatly atop the armrests, there was even on around his throat and a series of straps that kept his head straight and his jaw braced.

Marco had already begun to cut away at his skin leaving strips of flesh torn back to reveal the muscle of his arm. He'd started with the cut he'd made in the bedroom and began to peel it back as well as making several other incisions along his shins, his chest, his ribs, and his stomach. For some reason, Marco had taken to shaving the kid's head as clumps of hair mixed into the sticky blood that littered the ground. Just the sight was enough to churn Jean's stomach again.

As Marco called him over he swallowed and stepped over "Yeah?"

"Grab the second spray bottle on the left," Marco instructed firmly "as well as the light beside it and the hair dryer. We have some scouting to do." Unsure of what exactly that meant, Jean just nodded and followed his directions. Marco then instructed him to spray the liquid onto the boy's skin, dry it with the hair dryer, and then shine the light over his skin. After he began, Jean began to start at his legs and move slowly up his body while the kid's raging, feral eyes stared back into his. He'd never gotten such a chilling feeling from Cesare as he had then. The momentary connection sent a shiver down his spine before he continued doing what Marco had asked of him and set to spraying the slight citrusy liquid over Cesare's skin.

"What am I looking for Marco?" Jean finally asked as he sprayed nearly every inch of skin.

Marco looked down to him with narrowed eyes "His brand."

Confused, Jean asked for clarification "What do you mean his brand?"

The moment Marco examined Cesare's skin, he shook his head "Guess it's not on the skin. On to the more unusual suspects. His brand, Jean, is the mark of who he works for. The most common places are the hairline, some in invisible ink on the skin, the tongue, behind the teeth, and beneath the fingernails. Time to get to the teeth." Almost immediately Jean's stomach knotted again as Marco stepped over to the table to return with a metal device. Releasing the strap around Cesare's chin, Marco bent down "I'm going to put this in your mouth now. If you attempt to bite me I will cut out your fucking tongue, understand?" In response to Marco's question he was met with a scoff. What Jean hadn't expected was for Cesare to then spit in Marco's face. Knowing that the repercussions of that action were not to be good, Jean turned his head.

Following Marco wiping the blood mingled saliva from his cheek, there was a laugh and the sickening sound of something crunching. Metal collided with bone and the gurgling sound of Cesare's mouth filling with blood as he choked on it sent Jean reeling. Watching him spit the bloody saliva to the ground along with two of his teeth had Jean understanding just how Marco got in this room. Everything was, of course, serious as it had been life or death and finding out who had sent an assassin was after them was of the utmost importance. It did unnerve Jean a good bit but he had to suffocate that feeling as he watched Marco pry the boy's jaws open and strap the metal prop inside his mouth. Leather straps were then attached to keep his head back as Marco went for more dental tools. Investigating his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and his teeth had proven just as useless as the rest of the search.

Huffing, Marco then moved back to the table and grabbed a pair of pliers. Being beckoned, Jean moved closer to him and held down the wrist of his left hand as Marco began to pry up the pinky nail. Jean cringed as the gargled scream sounded from the boy's throat as the first nail was discarded and the raw nail bed began to bleed profusely. The next nail pulled had brought with it more than a startling realization. A design was carved into the flesh of the raw nail bed; one Jean didn't quite understand. Marco's face drained of color and he was suddenly waving Michael into the room who was also wearing an expression of dread. Glancing back and forth as the two began to converse in hushed Italian, Jean was completely lost.

Marco brought Jean's attention back to the design "Do you see that?" As Jean nodded at the crude carving, Marco continued "That tells us what assassin company he belongs to. This means, Jean, that we're a bigger target than we assumed. This is more than just bad; this could prove catastrophic. This is a message."

"What kind of message?" Jean inquired.

"A message that traitors are to be dealt with," Michael spoke in a hushed whisper. "This child is a fledgling of The Mercenaries of Calippus of Syracuse."

Shaking his head, Jean asked "Who's that?"

Bringing Jean to the other side of the room, outside of prying ears, Marco explained "It has to do a lot with the history of Italy. The Janus coin is a two sided coin that represents the god who is supposed to represent the two sides of a person. We all have two sides to us. For instance, my cold, callous, cruel actions as an assassin and mafia leader versus my life with you. The secret life of an assassin and their true identity is often one line that has to be walked carefully which is why that was chosen for this particular company. The original group were traitors, the lot of them."

"Callippus and Dion were both students of Plato’s and returned to Syracuse as comrades in the early days of Italy and the group of which we speak. Callippus had less than honorable intentions, however, when he returned and not long after was when he began to plan Dion’s murder. Rumors of the plot circulated but were ignored by most people. After all, who would believe something so ludicrous between two people who were supposed to be comrades? During the feast of Demeter and Chore, assassins from Callippus’s group of mercenaries entered Dion’s chambers and killed him as his own guards looked the other way," Michael explained.

"He had a group of loyal assassins behind him but even then loyalties with assassins are only to the moment they've been paid. It was the same for me for a long while. Callippus seized power but his rule over Syracuse only lasted 13 months before he and his mercenary assassins were chased out of town. Stripped of his position and power, Callippus remained at the head of the company as they marched across Italy and took control of Rhegium. When Callippus mistreated his assassins it proved to be a fatal mistake as they then killed him with the same sword that killed Dion. This is a message to me, to Levi, to the entire group that traitors we are and we shall be treated as such. A traitorous band sent to kill a traitor to his original company? Sounds a bit off doesn't it?" Marco reflected as he began to pace around the room. Just looking at him, Jean knew that this was obviously getting to him.

Michael cut in "And there is only one man who could have arranged this, Marco. What do you know of Kenny's ability to spur this on from beyond his rotten grave? Did he have backups in place?"

"Of course he did," Marco scoffed "the old, crafty bastard didn't do anything without a backup plan for his backup plan. Levi needs to be made aware of this immediately. They sent us a warning and we need to send our acceptance back. We'll take our proof then we'll snuff out this little cockroach. Jean, let's go." Before he could object or ask anymore questions, Marco drug Jean back into the room as Michael followed in on their heels. Watching Michael grab a hacksaw and Marco begin to affix a silencer to a pistol meant that he knew exactly what was about to happen. He knew that he needed to be adjusted to this type of thing. For a moment he just watched them get ready and then Marco walked over to Jean and thrust the pistol in his chest "Kill him."

Eyes widening, Jean stammered _"Wh-What?"_

"You heard me," Marco stated firmly as his voice darkened. **"Kill him."** Slipping up behind him as prompted Jean to take his stance, Marco placed his hands over Jean's and began to speak against his neck "This man tried to kill us, tried to kill me, and didn't you want to protect me Jean? Protecting me means being ready to kill at the drop of a hat. You must be prepared to take a life and especially take a life who attempted to claim yours. You must stare ahead and do not close your eyes. Looking at the life you are about to take is to state you know your actions. In this moment you must accept that you are taking a son from a mother and father, a brother from his siblings, perhaps even a father from his son. To look away from your target is to dishonor the life you are about to take. With resolve, conviction, and assurance you must squeeze that trigger and know more than your life will change when you do so. So, Jean, aim for the heart or head to make things quick and when you're---" Marco couldn't finish his speech as Jean aimed, squared his shot, and fired. A round made it's way just beneath the ribs on the left side of Cesare's chest causing an immediate response. The strangled scream pierced the air as a mass of blood was coughed up and began to slide down the corner of his lips.

Jean attempted to steady himself and regain his composure. Aiming once again, Marco assisted and made sure the second squeeze of the trigger landed him at the heart instead of the lung. Having made the boy suffer didn't mean too much to him. As Marco had spoken to him the only thing he knew to think on was the fact that the boy had attempted to take Marco away from him. That was an act deemed unforgivable and worthy of the death he so delivered. He vowed to himself that he'd protect Marco no matter what that meant and it wasn't the first kill he'd made in order to keep that vow. His training was going to be harsh but so long as he remembered everything he did, he did for Marco then all things would come to work it out in the end.

Looking down at his trembling hands, Jean turned to shove the pistol into Marco's chest. Both of them had rust stains on their skin and now the only thing he wanted was to shower again and go to bed. This was not the first life he'd taken and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Part of him wondered why he wasn't as shaken up as he should have been. He knew that rationalization of murder wasn't something that anyone should be able to do so quickly. Had being with Marco truly changed him into someone capable of whisking away human life so simply as if it were a spec of dust on the floor to be swept away with the rest of the garbage? He couldn't tell if it was him or if it had been his decision to love and protect Marco with everything that he was or ever would be.

"Michael, take our proof then do what needs to be done. I'm going to bed now. If anything needs my attention it can wait until morning." Marco turned his attention from Michael to Jean "Now, c'mon, you and I need to wash up, have a glass of wine, and get some sleep. It's gonna take a minute to calm you down again."

"There's the bottle of '82 Chateau in your office," Michael chimed in "so the glasses will be there as well."

Marco nodded and began to escort Jean out "Very well. Thank you and goodnight, Michael." While Jean was happy to get out of the torture room he was a bit apprehensive about how Marco was acting towards the ordeal. It wasn't like him to go an extended period of time without making some sort of snide comment. Something was wrong which meant that it had gotten to him. Watching as he chewed his lip in contemplation was definitely a sign that things had begun to swim around in his brain. Jean decided at that point that he'd lead him back up to the shower where they could lazily clean themselves of the blood. Afterwards, while Marco went to hunt down his bottle of wine, Jean set to remaking the bed and moving around all the weapons Marco had stashed around.

When Marco made it back up, Jean was already laying out on his side of the bed. There was a slight laugh as he noticed Jean curled into the side of the bed so he popped the cork on the wine and sat it on the side table to breathe while he leaned over and began to run his fingers through Jean's damp hair. He knew that everything he'd asked of him had been more than enough to break a normal man but there was no denying that Jean was no longer his average, normal man. Turning into the tender touch, Jean rolled onto his opposite side and looked up to an umber and silver eye staring back at him so sweetly. How the man he loved could be both so kind and cruel he didn't understand at first but after seeing it, experiencing it, and participating in the acts he came to slowly understand. Necessary evils to survive and preserve his way of life were how Marco lived.

 _"Hey,"_ Jean smiled softly as he met his gaze.

"Hey," Marco responded softly "how are you feeling?"

Taking a moment, Jean answered carefully "I, uh, I'm okay for the most part. I know you expected me to hesitate more than I did but he tried to hurt you, Marco. I promised you that I'd protect you. No matter what, I'll do whatever I have to so long as you're okay. You mean _everything_ to me and if someone is gonna try to take you away from me then I will not blink if I have to kill them. I've done it more than once now. Honestly, I don't understand how it's gotten so easy......why it doesn't feel as strong as it did the first time, but suddenly it all makes sense in the fact that I do it for you."

Laying down at his side and tugging Jean into his chest, Marco replied "It's because you've learnt without me on how to compartmentalize things. When you take a life things weigh you down and you began to think of the consequences for doing so. In your heart you have to find a reason to fight, something to devote yourself to, something that gives you a spark in the very pit of your soul that says if you have to die for that then you will do so without flinching. You need a reason to kill, a conviction strong enough that nothing can break it."

"What's yours?" Jean asked in a whisper.

"Before? My own word, my promise, my vows to my companies, but always it was for my mother. She'd sacrificed so much that no matter what I was going to take care of her. I fight for my way of life, the people I love, and the word and oaths that I've taken and given. Jean, tonight you did something that no person should ever have to see let alone do. I know that what happened has changed you and I'm sorry but if this is the world you choose then this is what it entails. Tomorrow, I'll instruct you as well but for now I just want you to take a deep breath and relax," Marco responded with a gentle smile and kind touch of his cheek.

Jean nodded and then asked "When you had to kill someone for the first time did you have the same thoughts?"

Marco chuckled "Haha, not exactly. I threw up actually and then didn't touch a blade again for about six months. I knew my conviction to do so wasn't strong enough to deal with the mental aftermath no matter how horrible the man had been. He was a prominent politician's aide who'd been blackmailing local women into sleeping with him in order to keep the protections on their businesses. It was absolutely deplorable. I was about 16 and I ended up waiting to ambush him as he went to his next target's home. When he struggled he made it much harder to get my blade around the curve of his jaw. I almost decapitated him and that very moment I got sick in the canal. I knew what I did was wrong but I also saved people's lives. Some part of me still couldn't get it through my skull. Before, stealing and things were easy.....I wasn't killing anyone but that time it just didn't click. Some of us are born with ways to trick our morals, some have to learn, and some of us don't have them at all. Those without them aren't people you want to know. Having to trick them means we're human while being the closest things to monsters we can get. Compartmentalization and justifying your actions are how you trick yourself to make it okay. The fact I didn't have to teach you means you're more like me than you may have initially thought."

After listening to Marco, he had to agree while taking his wine glass "Maybe I am but I don't think that it's such a _bad_ thing these days. In fact, I rather like that I come a little closer to understanding you every day."

"If you're so curious," Marco spoke as he sipped his wine "then you only have to ask, Jean. You are the only person alive that I would tell everything."

"You wouldn't tell your mother?" Jean asked, a bit skeptical.

"No," he answered firmly "as there are some things she still doesn't know. For instance, the old man didn't die of his illness. I put him out of his misery on my own accord before it got that far. He wanted a son, an heir, but he didn't want to have to raise him. At least I gave him an easy out. Be careful what you wish for and all that, I suppose."

Jean didn't so much as flinch at the information "He shouldn't have been a dick."

Marco's lip twitched upwards "Haha, true enough. Now, let's get some sleep, okay? It's been a long night." Jean finished his glass, sat it on the bedside table, snuggled back to Marco, and closed his eyes. He knew that come morning all things would be a bit different considering the assassin so he knew he should take the closeness to Marco. Marco would be busy the coming days with trying to figure out everything he could on this fiasco but Marco would also be training him to the bone. At no point did he assume that training with Marco would be easy but he wanted that. If Marco could kick his ass into gear then he'd be worthy of standing by his side to protect him further. Just laying against him, feeling his heart race, hearing his breathing, made his resolve strengthen. He was ready for what sunrise brought. No one would ever take Marco from him. Gods and everyone be damned who attempted to lay a single malicious fingertip on the man he loved.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys! Welcome back. It's been a while. I've been pretty sick lately so forgive me if things get murky or the mistakes get worse. I'll go over it later when I can focus a little better! Anyhow, it's the last update of this, and I feel pretty strange about it. Having to write two separate endings really took it out of me. To me, endings are the hardest part. I recalled the last bit, but obviously it's not verbatim of the last. I don't know how to feel about yet, honestly, but I hope that you enjoy it.
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

Come the next afternoon Jean awoke a bit later than normal. Unfortunately, he hadn't even gotten to wake up next to Marco. It seemed that he'd slipped out while he slept to presumably get a start on the work for the day. He knew that Marco had a lot of work to get done now that he was the head of Italy. Though that thought didn't bother him, waking up without so much as a word or kiss did. Was it too much to ask for to know that he was leaving? Perhaps he was just too busy......but that didn't seem like Marco at all in the back of his mind. Even with his bloodthirsty ways and at times chilled voice he knew that Marco was a softie who enjoyed the cheesiest parts of romance so it did strike him a bit odd.

After getting out of the warmth of the bed, Jean shuffled his way into the bathroom and took his time getting dressed and ready for the day. Upon his walk back out he examined the clock and wondered how Camilla hadn't stormed into the bedroom to force food down his throat. Maybe Marco had something to do with that or maybe she was just bust biting his head off for letting an assassin in the house. Either way he figured that he'd find out soon enough. Before he moved to step out of the bedroom he found a propped up note on the vanity. Of course. Marco may not have woken him up but at least he was considerate enough to leave him a note and inform him of everything that was going on.

> Jean,
> 
> I informed everyone to let you sleep. With the events of the night I may be stuck in my study for a while dealing with things. After I finish my work I will keep my promise and instruct you in the compound. Dress appropriately and come to my study when you wake.
> 
> Eternally yours,Marco. D. Bodt-Martello

How adorable was he? Jean wasn't sure that he'd ever get tired of hearing that phrase. Sometimes there were moments where he had to make sure that his heart kept itself in check and didn’t run off all aflutter over a single simple thing. It was hard at times but he managed and made his way down the stairs. The house was oddly quiet except for one part of the house. As he walked down the hallway he could hear a flurry of Italian being spouted in a couple of different voices.

When he reached Marco’s door he knocked timidly and waited until he heard Marco allow him inside. Instead of interrupting the clearly heated debate, assumed by the rising voices and wild gesticulation, Jean sat over by the window as Marco continued his video chat. From the bits and pieces he could understand it had nothing to do with his assassin from the other night and more about visits to various provinces around the country to make sure everyone was running clean operations. After several moments he wanted Marco huff and sign off. He plopped down into his chair, groaned, popped a couple of white, oblong candies from the crystal bowl on his desk into his mouth, and then ran his fingers through his hair. Jean could see that he was stressed out and the amount of candies he kept eating just proved it.

Many people didn’t know of Marco’s sweet tooth that presented when he was stressing himself out. Jean wasn’t entirely sure what the candies in the bowl were but he did know he needed to stop popping them like that. Getting up from his chair, he sauntered over to Marco’s chair and allowed himself to take a seat into his lap as he closed the laptop lid. Marco had done enough for the day in his eyes. If he was already getting to his wit’s end then he needed a break so he went to move the candy bowl away from him.

“Touch it again and I break your fingers,” Marco warned in a low growl.

Jean recoiled a moment to scoff and push a finger into his collarbones _“Excuse me?_ I think I may have misheard you. What did you just say to me, Marco?”

Marco groaned and pushed his head to Jean’s shoulder as his arms slipped around his waist “Ughhhh, I’m sorry, but I need something sweet so you can’t take them away.” Chuckling at how easy it was to reprimand Marco now, Jean nodded and reached for the white candies. After crunching it he instantly understood why Marco liked them. The white chocolate and vanilla coated almonds were delicious and quite sweet so if Marco wanted something sweet then he could have it in more than one way. Dragging Marco to his lips after finishing the candy he planted a simple kiss on his lips. Marco begged to deepen it and he obliged the desire just as hungrily.

Breaking the kiss, Jean ran the pad of his thumb over the scar on his cheek “Hmm, why don’t you take a break for a minute? Just let yourself unwind. It’s not good to be stressing yourself so much, you know that.”

“If you’re here I suppose I can,” Marco hummed as he buried his face into Jean’s neck “but I do have a good bit of work to do. I also have one call left to make before I can break for your training: Levi.”

Jean smiled “Then go ahead; I’ll sit right _here.”_

Marco gave a short laugh and picked up his landline, putting it on speaker as he waited for the line to be picked up by Levi who sounded more than a bit tired “Allô?”

“Good morning, Levi,” Marco replied knowing how early it was back in Los Angeles.

Levi yawned and sighed “Good afternoon, Marco. Thanks for getting back to me. I have some news for you.”

“And I for you, but, please, continue.”

“Very well,” Levi offered through what Jean guessed was a sip of tea “I’ve gotten some news from the hospital. It seems that Eren is still unconscious and comatose. His prognosis at the moment is unsure.”

Jean’s fist tightened on instinct and Marco reached over to place his hand atop his “It’ll be alright, Jean. Levi, I have a lot of faith in that kid. He’s a lot stronger than we gave him credit for. Don’t worry. It’ll be alright.”

“I know that,” he scoffed before chuckling “haha, but I hear that someone _else_ is tougher than we gave credit for. Jean, I take it you’re on the line, yes?”

Responding, Jean answered “I am.”

“Good,” Levi replied with a bit of an inflection, obviously intrigued “so I hear that you’ve been training with my hearts. How’s that going?”

“Uh, well, it went pretty well and Marco’s gonna train me some today. I do have an honest request. Proven you’re able, Levi, I’d like you to finish my training. I heard your skills rival Marco’s and where he faults you don’t. I feel like it’d round out my abilities,” Jean asked as the idea came to him. He honestly hadn’t done much thinking on it but he did recall what Krista had told him of their areas of proficiency. It was the final thing he’d need when Marco’s areas of expertise waned. Judging by Marco’s owlish umber eye, he knew that he might have overstepped however.

Levi laughed at the proposal “Ahaha! Are you suicidal, Jean? Honestly, you should be thankful that you’ve survived this long. If you seriously wish to train under me then let me ask you this: Why is it that you want that, hmm? Why should I train you? Do you just want to fit in and no longer feel like the only one who can’t act?”

Jean thought for a moment before answering him “My reasoning for wanting to be trained is in part because I don’t want to be the odd one out but the other side of that is because I need to be able to protect not only myself but Marco. I’m aware that he can no longer return to his place as the King of Spades, I’m aware he’s still going to be able to do more than I can with a bum arm, and I’m aware that what I’m asking is crazy but that’s fine by me. It seems like each of us is pretty mad at this tea party. Everything I am lies with the man I love and if I can’t allow him to lean on me as much as I lean on him then I can’t very well be at his side. I’m a target in this world and right now I might as well be a very stupid, slow one. I’m not letting someone take Marco from me and I need to be able to defend myself as well; taking the burden off him, sharing in it with him, that’s my goal. I no longer want to be a Spade charge that has to be looked after. I’m not asking to be a part of the organization, Levi, I’m asking to be able to do enough to take care of my bullish boyfriend. If that makes me crazy then so be it.”

For a moment the line was silent before Levi’s voice replied firmly “Good answers and interesting phrasing. I understand that reasoning and Marco is in a tough spot whether he wishes to admit it himself or not. He will need help and having a well trained man at his side will be beneficial. Fortunately, Marco is pretty decent with firearms and, I’m sure you know, he’s ambidextrous as well. What he can’t do with one arm he can just as well do with the other. Should you survive Marco’s training then you will be free to train under me, Jean, but know that I will not go any easier on you.”

“I understand, sir,” Jean answered.

“You’re in love with a lunatic, Marco,” Levi snickered “but I suppose it’s fitting. You two…...you mesh well with one another. Now then, Marco, you spoke of some news.”

Marco sighed “I did and thank you. Jean is a bit of a nutcase at times but I don’t mind it. Last night, Jean and I were the targets of an assassin. A rather poor one I’d like to add.”

“A warning,” Levi murmured in response.

“Precisely. From The Mercenaries of Calippus of Syracuse. You know as well as I do that this is no mere coincidence after our destruction of The White Rabbit. Someone is on our tail and, whoever they are, they were kind enough to let us know. If Kenny had a backup to come after us then this is it. I don’t know much at the moment since the group was thought to be wiped out. I’ve got eyes in the cities, ears in the wind, and boots on the ground. If there is so much as a whisper about them I will find out, sir,” Marco stated with a professional tone. At times, Jean forgot that Levi was his superior. Hearing Marco call someone “sir” just sent his head for a loop. He supposed that it was just he’d not heard him address him with reverence often.

“Very well, Marco,” Levi sighed “be sure to keep me informed and I’ll put out my own spies. I know some people we need to check because something tells me that us taking down The White Rabbit has us taking their place on more than one hit list. People are going to be lining up to take us down if Kenny had something to do with it…or that bitch I lost in the ruckus of the shoot out. Anyhow, I have to go. Keep an eye out and be on the earliest flight out on Sunday. I need my entire crew on this.”

Marco chuckled “Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t hear you, Jean,” Levi replied. “I believe I said my _entire_ crew.”

With a pat on the back from Marco, Jean answered “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize just remember you’re as much a part of this as Marco is. Be sure to get as much training in as you can. See you all Sunday. Arrivederci.” As the line went dead Jean swallowed hard. He’d just said that Jean was just as much into the assassin  group as Marco was. That in itself was an utterly terrifying prospect though he knew it to be true of the entire time. It wasn’t like he’d done everything he could for them and for Marco without some consideration of being at least in the band of merry killers in thought. Jean simply wasn’t a part of the band in action.

Marco took a moment to examine Jean’s rapidly changing features before chuckling delightedly “Haha, what’s the matter? You look troubled.”

Jean shook it off and sighed “Oh, no, it’s nothing.”

“Good,” he grinned mischievously “because now the real fun starts. Follow me upstairs so I can change. Your training starts now.”

In the spirit of being Marco’s underling for the training, he leaned over to him and whispered “Yes, sir.”

Casting him a quick glance, Marco shivered “Mmm, keep saying that and I won’t let you leave. C’mon.” Jean cackled to himself at getting to watch the change in his demeanor. As Marco rose from his chair, Jean got to his feet as well and trailed behind him as he went up to the bedroom to change into a pair of sweatpants and tennis shoes. He hadn’t really expected Marco to change out of a suit since he normally killed people in one. Then again, Marco was still a little enigma at times and he liked that about him. After Marco changed he followed him outside as they walked out to the compound of various smaller out buildings behind the estate.

As they walked into the room Jean was a bit taken back. He recalled the building they were in but he didn’t expect there to be other people training inside. While breezing past them he caught their stares and heard their only slightly hushed whispers. Everyone seemed to stop their actions and turn their eyes to the fact Marco was dressed for training and Jean was too. Thankfully, Marco decided to wear his sling during everything but Jean wasn’t completely daft. He knew that even with an injury as extensive as the one he currently had that Marco could easily take him. It took no genius to know and it seemed as the men around them took notice so did Marco.

Casting quite an icy glare towards them, Marco hissed something in Italian that had them all shrinking back. Of course, they didn’t entirely want to miss this. Clearing away the mats at the back of the room, Marco began to roll his shoulders. He knew this was getting serious. When he looked over to see pistols on the nearby table as well as various knives something told him things were not going to go as smoothly as he’d initially imagined.

“Get on the mat,” Marco ordered flatly.

Jean looked around and back to Marco “Do we really need to do this with an audience?”

“Relax,” Marco smirked as the corners of his lips curled dangerously “I’m only gonna be fighting you one handed. Surely you can handle that much, hmm?”

Scoffing, Jean crossed his arms over his chest “I’m not stupid enough to believe I can take you even in a sling. You’ve got more talent for this shit in the thickness of your pinky nail than I do in my entire body.”

Marco shrugged “Maybe but I’ve also got around 20 years of experience on ya. Now, do what I said, get on the mat. Ignore them. You’re training with me.” Obeying the order, Jean stepped onto the mat and watched as Marco began to circle around him not unlike a vulture on carrion. He kept turning his head but Marco obviously planned for it and swept his leg out from under him before he could blink. A knee was pressed to his gut, just above his navel, and the entirety of Marco’s hand was around his throat. Looking up, he could see Marco’s umber eye alight with joy. “Pay attention without losing focus and I wouldn’t have just have ended your life. Get up.”

All he could do was nod as he tried to regain his breath while the onlookers chuckled at his misfortune of being slammed into the mats. Gaining new bruises from his lover was normally a fun experience but this was anything but. Learning how to listen to nearly silent footsteps was hard especially knowing Marco was being heavier than normal. He could only try to dodge Marco’s incoming attack if he heard a part of him moving. It was difficult to manage and he’d been slammed onto his back so many times he believed Marco was just having fun with it. At the umpteenth time, Marco hissed to the slacking onlookers who were neglecting their own training. Telling them all that Jean was the only one to agree to his training, unlike them, made him stronger than they could ever hope to be.

Part of Jean took joy in that while the other half registered a fist to his kidney.  Marco was driving his fist to his skin just as hard as he normally would, except in dangerous areas. Hours passed of Jean and Marco sparring back and forth just so. He’d come to learn that his senses were his greatest asset. Closing his eyes provided him an easier way to work things out which seemed to be why Marco had been operating the way he had. Sidestepping a blow was hard but he’d managed at least twice before Marco stepped it up again.

Defense was through so it was on to offense. He quickly learned hitting Marco was much harder than dodging him. His actions were so smooth and calculated not unlike a feline. Watching him was difficult and he could feel all his new bruises begin aching all over his body. Marco began to strike back when it became clear that Jean was slacking off a bit. Each hit brought back the rule that Marco had told him: exhaustion was no excuse. He had no idea how Marco lived like that. It was in every sense hell but that was also no excuse to give up.

No matter how hard Marco hit, how drained he was, or how difficult it all seemed Jean refused to give up. At times Marco would stop and ask if he wanted to call it day and he’d simply shake his head. The two pushed on for several hours more until he was sure they’d spent around four hours on the mat. By the end of it, he’d come to notice Marco’s method was force him until absolute exhaustion and wait until his instincts would take over. It was absolutely brilliant. The first time he’d managed to do anything was off instinct and he vowed to himself the first hit he landed on Marco meant calling it a day.

It didn’t exactly work out to landing a blow on Marco. A swiftly dodged punch with a sidestep and a hand paused at his ribs was good enough. Marco had grinned, face only barely beaded with sweat while he was sweating profusely. He knew Marco was used to that as probably a warm up but it had been a good place to stop. Once they stopped plenty of the capo came to pat him on the back and wish him well. Jean thanked them and as he looked over to Marco, he noticed a smile unlike anything he’d seen on his face. To him, it looked as if he was entirely too proud of Jean had done.

Back at the estate the two took to licking their wounds. Showering together, they each took care of one another’s bodies carefully. Dinner was shortly after and the table was buzzing with talk of how well Jean did with Marco in their sparring. Ymir had been so intrigued that she wished to help. Jean was a bit perturbed by it but Marco welcomed her to join the sessions. He watched an unholy smirk cross her lips and Krista seemed to cringe for him. At the end of the night they bid everyone goodnight and headed to bed.

Jean stripped down to his boxers as he climbed into bed with a wince “Hey, I know this is gonna sound weird but thanks for not going easy me.”

As Marco pulled him over to his body gently, he chuckled “Haha, well, I take training seriously and, even though I love you, you need to be prepared to take a powerful hit. People aren’t going to be playing around with you so you’ll remember to dodge when you get hit enough. Starting tomorrow I’ll begin your regime. You’ll have three hours of basic hand to hand combat, an hour with firearm training, and two hours with knife training. Each weapon will include use and disarming enemies. I hope you’re ready Jean. It will not be easy.”

Eyes wide with a hint of fear, Jean stared blankly before sarcastically droning “Oh…yeah, I mean, six hours getting the hell beat out of me and my ass handed to me sounds _great,_ honey. You're the _best.”_

Marco pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head “Levi’s training will be brutal, Jean, and this is a walk in the park compared to it. Prepare now for an inkling of it. Just get some sleep; you’re going to need it."


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning, Jean awoke to another letter on Marco's side of the bed telling him that he had some Martello business to take care of for a bit. It was to be expected of the most powerful man in Italy. He had a business to run and other enterprises to oversee. While Marco was busy, and told that he'd be fetched when Marco finished, Jean decided to take the time to have some breakfast and relax for a bit. He knew that he wasn't going to get to relax any other time so he might as well take while he could. After listening to Camilla scold him for all his bruises he headed upstairs and opted to do something he'd long forgotten. Jon had sent him some letters and told that he needed to read them as quickly as possible. As he opened them, he felt a pang of guilt at the fact it had taken him so long to remember to get around to them

Scanning the first one, Jean felt that guilt in his gut tighten and twist. He was worried. Jon knew that his father dying meant most of the people who had regular jobs with them would be looking towards him to understand what would come next. It wasn't like he could say he ran off with his mafia boyfriend and planned on being wherever he was. The more he read the more he knew he had to come up with something. Some people remained gainfully employed beneath his mother while she'd been there but Jon had informed him that his mother had in fact left the estate as he'd so wished. She'd cleaned it out practically but that was fine. He didn't want anything in the rooms to even remind him of her more than the home itself did.

People on the staff were worried of losing their jobs and stability so he couldn't let that happen. Trying to find out a way to keep them on the staff was difficult. Jean laid back in bed and attempted to wrack his brain. Eventually, he was struck with an idea all too amazing. Like a bolt of lightning, Jean's epiphany registered and he knew it was the best thing he could have ever thought. It would not only benefit the staff but the Spades as well. The more he thought it out the more he realized he was going to need help with everything. There were people who came periodically for the home, such as landscapers and the pool cleaner, but then there were people everyday who stayed at the estate such as Jon, Robert, and Ciera, who occupied the titles of steward, chef, and maid respectfully. Something would have to be done with everyone and people would need to be paid so there was only one person he knew that could help in the blink of an eye.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly dialed the number and waited until he heard a chipper "Helllo??"

Jean grinned as he responded "Good morning, Hanji, I hope I didn't wake you."

"Not at all," came the response "so what can I do ya for?"

"Can you check if a bank account is still active? My father used to drop money into it but I've not accessed it in over two years," he explained, hoping the woman could work whatever digital magic she possessed.

There was some clicking of keys before she answered "Sure. It looks like there are three with your name on them. The only with your father's name as well is still open. You want all the cash out of it?"

"Uh, not quite," Jean replied. "I was hoping you could do something for me. I have some people who worked for my father and thus worked at the estate. I need to ensure that they're paid. Can you set it up to where it auto drafts it out of that account and into theirs?"

Hanji cooed "Awww, you're such a sweet boy, Jean. I can and will do exactly that. Anything else?"

Jean groaned at her commentary "Ugh, yeah, I need to have Jon know Marco and I will be arriving Sunday. Things need to be ready for our arrival."

"Got it," she chirped "that everything?"

"Uhm, plane tickets back to LA?" He asked carefully.

A scoff sounded through the phone "Levi has already taken care of them. Marco should have the digital confirmation. If that's all have a good day, Jean, and don't let Marco fool you. He leaves his right side open if he's parrying a blow."

Confused at how she knew he was training, Jean just thanked her "Oh, uh, thanks. That's all I can ask so thanks again, Hanji."

"Not a problem kiddo! See ya!" Her voice quickly melded with the signal of a dead line as Jean processed everything. He'd have to remember to bring it up with Marco and Jon when they arrived back in LA. Until he was able to do anything else, he set to sketching out some things for the game design and for the things he had to double check on for his classes. There wasn't much time for classwork but he was determined to get through what he could. After slipping on his glasses he could easily draw out the fauna and flora he'd so dreamed of. Everything seemed so vivid and real as he got lost in his activities. In fact, he'd been so swept up in his progress that Marco had managed to stealthily slip in and watch him from a few paces back.

"Looks good," Marco whispered.

Jumping nearly out of his own skin, Jean turned his head over his shoulder and scowled "Dammit Marco!"

"What? If you weren't in art mode you would have heard me. Is that for the game?" He asked softly as he rounded the bed to take a seat at Jean's side.

"Yeah," he nodded "you like it?"

Humming, Marco nodded "Mhmm, you have an incredible talent, Jean. I hate to break you away from it but it's time to train." Jean stashed away his canvas and myriad materials as he got to his feet. Knowing that things weren't going to be a walk in the park, Jean took a deep breath and tried to prepare for the six hours of hell that Marco was about to put him through. Without so much as a word, Marco led him out to the same out building only Ymir was awaiting them both inside. Many other men were training beneath their various capo but Ymir waiting with her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes met Jean's and suddenly a sinister smirk began to unfurl across her face sending a slight chill down Jean's spine. He did not like that look.

For a moment, Jean was given the instruction to stretch as he wished while Marco and Ymir stepped off to the side to chat. Whatever they were talking about, it was clear they were both in agreement on as they nodded back and forth to another. Why they weren't stretching he didn't know but he supposed if they got a cramp it was on them......if that was even possible for them. After a few minutes of secretive discussion Marco was joining Jean on the training mat and beginning his routine from hell. Things always started simple with Marco taking the offensive and attempting to simply down Jean and not hurt him... too much. Attempting to dodge him was just as difficult as it had been the previous day when he'd not been submerged into the training an he was paying for it.

Poorly dodged fists and shins led to many bruises and quick downs to the mat. Ymir was snickering beneath her hand as he watched them sparring yet offering no true instruction. Wasn't that the reason she was there in the first place? He picked himself up, dusted off, and continued for around an hour until he noticed Marco sweating and shaking his hair out of his eye. It seemed like he was winded and spent. He needed a break. Stopping the session without Marco calling it resulted in a fist to the ribs and the sweeping of his leg. Gasping from the hard knock down, Jean scowled and just quietly wiped the sweat from Marco's brow. Clearly the day's training was taking it's toll on him but he hadn't a clue why. The previous day he'd barely been sprinkled with sweat as Jean had been pouring buckets. What had changed?

Marco called it, thankfully, and stepped off the mat tagging Ymir in as he left. In his place, Ymir pulled him to his feet and took a defensive stance. Still worried, Jean's focus remained mostly with Marco. He knew that physical therapy was going to be starting for him within the week and these training sessions would be afterwards. It wasn't going to be easy and he was likely going to wind up sore. With his mind drifting around to Marco's ailment, Ymir took the advantage and quickly had him on his back, forearm braced to his throat. Jean's eyes were wide as Ymir gave him a toothy grin.

"Stop thinking about Marco," she whispered in his ear "or I'll end you quicker than you can blink. It's _your_ fault he's like that. If you don't like it you better down me first." The words were a challenge issued through a harsh hiss. It was her way of trying to remind him what he was fighting for. He was fighting to protect Marco and he needed to step up his game if he wanted to come anywhere near that. All he did was nod when he got up and he began to ask Ymir questions as they sparred which caught Marco's attention. Wondering how he should move when she lunged to his right to break the path of her action, if there was a way to parry a blow in a certain step, and various other questions left his lips causing Ymir and Marco both to smile. He was finally understanding that he wasn't meant to just figure it all out on his own. When he asked questions he got answers and the proper instruction.

Ymir may have been faster with her hits and her sweeps than Marco was but that wasn't where Marco's speed came into play. He listened to Marco's instruction from behind him and enjoyed the moments where they paused to adjust posture and stance. Marco's hands skimmed down his body as he corrected his form and he found himself getting way more into training than he had been yesterday. Hand to hand combat ended only when the time limit was called which was nice but he remembered what was next: knives and where Marco was king. Marco took it upon himself to grab his favorite kind of blade from the table and tag himself back in. He'd not really dabbled with blades the previous day. All he knew was that Marco was one of the best and if he was trying his hardest to slice him then he was going to wind up hurt if he didn't learn.

First thing to do was outfit Jean with blade cuff releases. He'd watched Eren attempt to learn how to release the hidden blades inside and knew it was no walk in the park. In fact, he remembered Eren being absolutely atrocious at it even after a couple of hours. He wasn't any different. The idea was to roll his arm, or move his thigh, and trigger the release mechanism before Marco could get to him. Unfortunately, Jean either kept dropping the knife after the release, completely missed it, or, at the last point, slicing himself up the index finger. He was quickly patched up and returned to fending off Marco's advances. It was easy, then, to see just how well trained both Marco and Ymir were. A bit of pain tugged at his heart as he realized he was the second person only to be trained by Marco and had a momentary remembrance of Nero. That man had to be something otherworldly to not only learn from Marco but to handle his attitude with such ease as well as the run the business.

A smile broke out on his face as he put his mind back to it. He wanted to make them all proud; Nero included. Making it through Marco's, and Ymir's, training would be the measure of him and there no one who was going to stop him. Sure, Marco was quick with a knife and grazed his skin several times during the course of training but he knew that he was doing it for him. His mind was sharpening and he was honing his skills the more they practiced. Conditioning his body to the brutal beatings, the relentless assault, and the strain of bending and dodging was well worth all the pain and soreness in the end. Leaning how to deflect and parry incoming attacks made him feel less powerless the more time passed. He could finally give back as he much as he was taking.

Within a couple of gruelling days he managed to get the approval to handle his own knife against Ymir. The Honshu Aizu blade was his favorite and so Marco had gone out and had him one engraved. It was his to take care of and learn everything about. An extension of his arm, the blade was used not to hack and slash away at things but to flow fluidly with the flick of his wrist. Marco hit harder, moved faster with a blade, and was more than impressive with a firearm but Ymir's hits were quick, her attacks fierce, and her firearm capability was that of a normal grade A marksman. Partnered with Ymir, Jean spent the days training against her with Marco giving him instruction and guidance. His first flourish of ability had come when Marco had advised him to put his flexibility to use.

Dancing had given him the ability to move easily and it made for ease when dodging. Ymir had demonstrated the very move Marco had told him and so the next slash aimed at his chest, Jean placed the blade in his teeth and flipped back with an extended heel. Landing a good distance back, stance firm, and blade handy he learned that showing off wasn't just to be flashy but to save their lives. He understood why Marco made exaggerated movement at times: he couldn't turn it off. After learning how to move his body he, too, had problems stopping his actions. Marco had chuckled but pampered him after training often resulting in the two of them lazing in bed, fingertips caressing each other's skin, and talking about where Jean could use improvement.

By Saturday morning, Jean was ready to take on Ymir full on. He'd been progressively getting better with her and was able to land a few blows as well as pin her. The only person he still could barely manage to get a hit in on was Marco. Ymir was no by no means easy to handle but she had been relatively lax with her methods. When the two sparred, knives in hand, with one another he found himself amazed. It was difficult to even get near her. Once he was near he discovered that was too close. Getting the wind knocked out of him while also deflecting her knife was nearly too much. He was managing, struggling a bit, but he managed to pin her after shoving her off him and slipping out her right heel where she balanced her weight. Marco had called an end to the training, with Ymir, and decided that he was to then attempt to spar with him.

Full on he knew there was no way in hell he could even brace against Marco. If he got pinned he knew a knife would draw his blood and so there was a bit of apprehension. He also didn't want to wind up clumsily slashing Marco. While he was in control, and that was less than probable, it was still a possibility that could arise so he cautiously took his defensive stance and prepared. Marco tightened the band of his eyepatch and grinned. His umber eye sparkled in the natural lighting and Jean understood that he was excited about getting to spar with him. Maybe it would be something they'd keep up to keep them both in optimal condition. It could be fun to test themselves often but for the moment he was just busy trying to keep from having his throat slashed open.

Marco's full range of motion was extensive and he was definitely aiming for Jean. There was no holding back when he saw that fire in his eye. With Marco taking things so seriously he knew he'd have to focus everything he had into both disarming him and pinning him. Brandishing his blade, Jean side stepped his attack and waited until he could make one of his own. Hanji had given him the biggest insight about Marco and he'd begun to notice it. Now, taking advantage of Marco's parry that left his right side open, Jean grabbed Marco's wrist before he turned and dug the point of his elbow into Marco's ribs. Taking the advantage was easy but keeping it was harder. Marco could take a blow without flinching more than normal so his retaliation was hitting Jean in the solar plexus.

Dropping from the force of the hit, Jean's knees buckled under him and Marco made one move towards him. Using his damaged damsel routine he was able to pull Marco closer before sweeping out his leg and digging his knee to his gut. Successfully pinning Marco came with an amount of pride that he knew would stay with him. It was an endorphin high that he got to ride as he pressed his blade to Marco's throat, kept his knee beneath his sternum, and used his free hand to hold Marco's above his head.

Slamming Marco's hand to the ground to release his blade, Jean smiled victoriously "Got ya."

Thigh shifting beneath Jean, Marco scoffed "Are you so sure?" Before Marco could completely release the hidden blade, Jean slid his knee down to his groin and pushed his knee to the floor. Creating the space and preventing the blade from falling down his leg definitely meant Jean had him.

Drawing a drop of blood from his throat as he pressed his blade closer, Jean nodded smugly "Mhmm, so if you move your thigh again I'll draw more than a drop."

Marco chuckled and ran a hand up his chest "Oh yeah? You look _real_ fucking sexy up there saying that, you know?"

Groaning, Jean sighed "That's not gonna work, Marco."

A smile donned his lips "Good boy. You've gotten a lot better in just a few days--" He couldn't finish his thought before his phone was ringing. Of course, Ymir answered it for him but was immediately handing it to him. Not one for letting Marco up, Jean stayed seated with his smug grin plastered across his face while he answered the phone. Ymir began to laugh as Jean's smile softened for some unknown reason. He knew whoever he was on the phone with was someone important. Marco's tone had changed and his responses were simple yeses or noes. Leaning back and removing his knife from Marco's throat, Jean began to wonder just what it was about. Ymir hissed through a clenched jaw and Marco cocked his head to the side as he continued to speak yet looked at Jean and winked. Confused, Jean's brows knit and before he knew what was happening, Marco clenched the phone between his jaw and shoulder as he knocked the blade from Jean's hand.

In the blink of an eye, Jean's blade flew across the room and Marco looped his thigh around Jean's knee. Trapping him, Marco elbowed him in the sternum taking his breath instantly. Without much will to retaliate Jean was quickly put on his back. All the while Marco was speaking on the phone as if it had been child's play.

"Don't get distracted or ever let your guard down," Marco chastised as he ended the call. "If you get complacent while holding the upper hand you never know when it will be taken. Do not assume your enemy is weaker or dumber than you either."

Opting to take Marco's previous attempt for his own, Jean ran a hand up the back of Marco's neck "Promise. I'm sorry I got distracted." His fingers began to toy with the longer strands of Marco's hair before sliding down to flick his nape piercing.

Marco nodded "Mhmm, just be care---" Jean took full advantage of his weakness and rolled him over to his back after knocking his sica blade from his hand. Releasing the blade from his shoulder sheath, he effectively caught it and pressed it to his throat. Rolling his eyes, Marco sighed. He knew Jean won that round no matter how badly he didn't want to admit it. In fact, Marco was rather proud of how quickly he'd managed to get the drop on him. "Alright, alright, I give."

"What was that call about?" Jean asked as he helped Marco to his feet.

Calling Ymir over, Marco explained "Levi's changing our dates. We're on the first flight out tonight. Eren's awake." Jean was shushed before he could exclaim how happy he was "Shh, Jean. I know you're happy but the thing is this: he doesn't remember a damn thing. There's nothing we can do about that so we're to continue with the next part of the day. Understood?" Both nodded and trailed behind him to Jean's firearm training. During the set up, Jean began to wonder about Eren. He was worried but he knew that Eren was such a strong guy. He'd been through so much already and there was no way that this was going to stand in his way. As the range went dark, Jean's mind jumped back to the task at hand. All Marco had said was that they were going to put his instinct to the test and he was to shoot for the alarms behind the exploding targets.

With his sight beyond limited in the dark he knew that he had to be careful. He'd not been allowed to train with his contacts in due to the fact that he didn't always wear them and he should learn how to properly use his instincts. All the while he was aiming at various targets around the room Ymir and Marco would be aiming for him and if he was caught then it was over. Trying to deal with them literally aiming to cut him wasn't entirely the funnest thing but he got the real feeling for it as the alarms began to sound. Monochromatic blurs moved across his field of vision as he tried to rely on his hearing, scent, and the feel of vibrations to gauge where he need to shoot. Thankfully, he was only using rubber bullets so in case he hit someone it wouldn't be deadly.

At first it was more than a hint disorientation as he moved around the room. When the alarms began to silence with each hit he began to gain more confidence in his actions. Thinking back to when Marco was in danger, he could tell where people where based on the sounds of their steps, their voices, and the scent coming off them. The chemical scent had been relatively easy to pinpoint and the same could be said of Marco's cologne. Marco's cologne was a scent that Jean enjoyed being enveloped in. He could pick it out nearly anywhere and even with the smoke from the exploded target it wasn't difficult to find. He moved with precision and grace as he came to eliminate all of his targets, ending with the barrel of his pistol to Ymir's chest and his knife bared to Marco's gut.

Firearms training was always easy for him when he'd realized he had a bit of natural talent for it but both Ymir and Marco seemed to want to step it up each time. Once it had reached that level Marco seemed absolutely giddy. When he took a deep breath through the clouded room and lowered his weapons he was glomped. Marco wrapped around him tightly as he began spouting off in wild bits of Italian with Ymir. Something seemed to be making them both excited but he was basically lost. He'd been picking up some words but not enough to decipher their entire conversation. All he'd gathered from it was that Marco was proud, Ymir was unsure of something, and both were sure of one thing but he had no idea what it could be.

"Congratulations," Marco beamed as he kissed his temple "you're going to do well. I don't know how you'll fare with Levi though I guess we'll find out soon enough. It's time we got cleaned up and packed. Dinner will be soon and someone has to tell ma that we're leaving again."

"Not me!" Ymir scoffed as she placed the tip of her index finger to the tip of her nose.

Jean followed the manner and laughed "Or me. You're taking that brunt yourself. She's gonna think you're never coming back. After you left for so many years she's gonna be rather reluctant to let you go."

Groaning, Marco nodded "I know! Damn. Ymir clean this up if you would and be sure to join us for dinner. Inform Krista of the news and we'll take our leave now." Ymir gave him a curt nod in return and Marco slipped his arm around Jean's hip leading him off to the house. Inside, Marco carefully led him upstairs where he began to ditch his clothing and move to the bathroom. Before showering Jean had to take care of Marco's wound, noting it looking much better these days, and Jean's minor injuries were treated with the utmost care. Thanks to Marco's physical therapy he was able to move his arm without a mass amount of pain. Things still smarted as the torn muscles had to be repaired but Jean was pleased to see him making progress.

After their lazy, indulgent shower, the two packed their bags and made their way downstairs for dinner where the table burst out with rapid conversations. It began to take a turn for the awkward as Michael began translating bits for Jean. Camilla was certainly not happy about them all leaving to go back to LA but once Jean mentioned Eren it changed in their favor. Of course she was still frustrated that her son was leaving again for no one knew how long. First he left and returned shot, attracted an assassin, and was leaving again. It was natural for her to be overly cautious and apprehensive so he opted to stay after and help her with the dishes. For a bit she vented about the idea as Michael began to translate for her but it wasn't truly a rant. She was just a worried mother.

Jean smiled as he continued with the dishes “I promise I'll take care of him while we're there. I've been training to make sure that I can. I'll make him call to check in and keep up with his work too.”

She turned to Jean and hugged him with such strength he assumed his lungs may burst as Michael grinned “She said she loves you and Marco both. She will hold you to your promises because you need to return home. If you're not home she can't give you both her her blessing.”

Blinking slowly, Jean cocked his head to the side _“Blessing?”_ It was then she placed her hand on his chest and tugged free the ring beneath his shirt by it's silver chain. She'd dropped it and then grabbed his hand with tears welling in her eyes.

“I love you both, my sons, so please be careful. Come back home. We'll be waiting for the day so we can be with you,” Michael translated smoothly. Feeling a swirling of overwhelming emotion in his stomach, Jean returned her hug.

“I promise. We'll be home as soon as we can. I love you too,” Jean whispered before he, for once, kissed her forehead as Marco often did. It was a symbolic gesture. Never had he told that to someone like Camilla. She was, in every sense but the birthing, his mother. She was his mother-in-law and he loved her. It made his cheeks flush and her speechless then she was crying and spouting off more Italian about he was always going to be a part of her family, how Marco had never been so happy, and how much he meant to them both.

Before he was released to head upstairs for bed, she kissed both his cheeks and forehead as she did Marco. He gratefully accepted her affections, bid her goodnight, and made his way upstairs to prepare for bed. Marco wasn't in the bedroom, however, so he turned his attention to the bathroom. The door was wide open and the lights were dimmed giving him the clues that was exactly where he was. When he walked in Marco was clad only in his underwear and attempting to shave with his left arm. He nicked himself and Jean clicked his teeth as he watched him. The straight razor in his hand was trembling faintly and, though he knew it was good for him to be using the arm, this wasn't how he needed to be practicing.

Walking up to him and placing his hand atop Marco's, he helped still his shaking hand “You need to be more careful. You're gonna bleed out at this rate." He moved towards the sink to grab a towel and place it against his throat to stop the narrow stream of blood running it's way down his skin. When it finally stopped, Jean removed it and continued keeping his hand on Marco's. Being so close to Marco's face as he kept Marco's hand steady was beginning to cause his face to heat. From so close he could see every detail in Marco's face from the shine of his silver eye to the cluster of freckles beneath his umber eye that reminded him of ursa minor. It felt like forever ago that he first saw that face and his fake umber contact waltzing into the store. He'd never imagined that day would change the rest of his life quite as magnificently as it had.

"Hey," Marco murmured softly "what are you thinkin' about? You've turned red on me."

"Oh," Jean fumbled as he shook his head "it's nothing. Just hold still so we can finish shaving your face."

Rolling his eyes, Marco scoffed "I can do it myself, you know."

"Yeah, sure. I mean you weren't shaking so hard I figured your arm was having a seizure. Look, just let me help," Jean sighed as he continued to assist him.

When they finished and Marco began to wash his face, he asked "Seriously, though, you were pink when you came in here and now you're cherry red. What was it? You know you can tell me."

Nodding as he felt the heat in his face increase, Jean placed a hand at Marco's cheek "I love you. I was just thinking about the first time I saw you and how it feels like I've known you forever. Your mom.....she, uh, she told me I have to bring you back for her blessing. She grabbed the ring around my neck and then called me her son again. I didn't know entirely what to do when she said that. I know it's not the first time, but I've never had that before....that feeling that I kinda have a mom. It just struck me."

Embracing him, Marco laid his head atop Jean's shoulder and hummed "Mhmm, you do have a mom. Mother-In-Law technically but still. I know it's strange and it's not what you ever expected, to fall in love with an infamous criminal and be recruited into an mafia outfit, but I'm glad you did. "

Relaxing into his hold, Jean sighed contentedly "Me too. I finally have a mom who gives a damn about me....probably more so than I need though."

"Welcome to my mother," Marco chuckled "but she _does_ love you. Yeah, she can be overbearing and obnoxious with it but it's just proof she cares about you. Right now, she's worried about one, or both, of us coming back with another bullet hole or worse. She knows that when I'm at HQ I'm on the job and that means the possibility of getting contracts and getting hurt. You know that whatever contacts I could take I can't now. I'm practically fucking useless but she still thinks I'm gonna leave and never come back or leave and try my luck only to get hurt again."

Glancing up to him, Jean replied "You're not useless, Marco, but I'm worried about you trying to run off and take contracts too. Just because you're gaining back a small amount of mobility doesn't mean you're suddenly a god."

"I've been a god of death long before you came along, Jean," Marco reminded him "but I promise I'm not about to take a contract in this state. Although---"

"No althoughs, Marco. Promise me you won't," Jean demanded as he held Marco's gaze.

Sighing, Marco nodded "Fine. I promise I won't try to take a contract. I'm too busy as it is trying to track down this assassin group and how they popped up practically overnight."

Jean pushed up on his toes to plant a soft kiss to his lips "Thank you. Now, come to bed with me. We aren't gonna get a lot of sleep tonight."

Grinning, Marco arched a brow as his voice accrued a flirtatious tone _"Oh?_ Are we not? I wasn't aware."

Scoffing, Jean rolled his eyes "Ugh, not what I mean. Let's just go to sleep." Marco gladly trotted off behind him and shut the lights off as they exited the room. Upon climbing into bed, Marco pulled Jean close and placed his head atop his chest. It was the little moments like that which reminded Jean that Marco was just as sentimental as he was. So what if he kept his act up around everyone else? So long as Marco didn't keep it up around him. He casually ran his fingers through Marco's hair and closed his eyes. It was strange to believe that the man on his chest was a man he'd vowed to marry some day. He had a small family there and he allowed himself to make another vow to himself as he finally heard Marco drift off: no one would ever stand between him and his family. Assassin groups or law enforcement alike would never keep him from standing to protect the people he cared for most.


	28. Chapter 28

The next morning was an absolute blur. Everyone was moving around and getting ready to leave the moment breakfast was over. Unfortunately, breakfast had been where Jean's mind had lingered. Camilla had brought up their leaving and grumbled something about them not being back in time for a decent wedding. Jean had nearly choked on his food but Marco just laughed it off as if she was saying they needed Halloween decorations! Her attention then turned to Ymir and Krista whom she'd been waiting to hear notice of an engagement from as well. It seemed that everyone was on her list that morning. Jean and Krista seemed to be the ones blinking back surprise but leave it Marco and Ymir to eye each other like they had some master plan. Marco got his mother off his back by saying she could help organize their wedding and Ymir got herself off the hook by saying Camilla could help her pick out a nice suit.

All the talk about weddings had him feeling queasy. He'd said he'd marry Marco when he asked but last time he recalled Marco hadn't asked!! He would have fucking remembered that! It looked like Camilla was just one of those moms. Whatever it was though, Jean just wanted to give her a hug and a kiss then be on his way to the airport. Camilla, however, was exactly the type of mom to not let anyone leave until she had told them exactly how much she loved each and every single one of them. Marco was, of course, the last one to be shown any affection and she wound up crying on him. Like the gentlemen he was, Marco held his mother and sat down with her while Michael put their bags in the car. Marco promised her that he'd call, he'd work, and he'd take care of Jean so they could return as soon as possible.

It was a touching thing to see as Marco embraced her closely. On their way out she placed a purple flower inside both Marco's and his own chest pocket which only confused him. He only smiled and thanked her in return before they made their final exit. Michael had no problem driving them to the airport. Ymir took a moment with her brother before they left to check their bags and board the plane. While they finally got to their seats, Jean began to thumb over the petite purple-blue flowers wondering just why she gave them flowers before they left.

Marco leaned his head against his shoulder and hummed "It's called Pulmonaria. You may have heard it called lungwort before and that's because it's used in the treatment of several respiratory disorders."

Jean leaned his head against Marco's and chuckled "Haha, well, that's nice to know but I'm more wondering about why I have it."

"If I tell you now it might ruin the surprise when I give you several of them," Marco replied through yawn.

"Now I really need to know," Jean responded with a little nudge.

Slipping his hand through Jean's, twining their fingers, Marco yawned again "Well, you'll know in a few days. It was less for you and more for me that she did it. A reminder of who you are to me and who I am to her." Jean didn't quite understand it but didn't push anymore either. Marco was falling asleep and he decided that he could go for that too. It was going to be kind of late Sunday when they arrived in Los Angeles, so he was prepared to sleep for a couple hours before having to be up. The length of the plane ride was extensive, and he remembered all too well having to do it the first time, only now the difference was he'd understood nearly every piece there was to know about Marco. Krista and Ymir couldn't tell him anything he didn't need to know now.

He'd woken several hours before the plane would land and so he took to reading and sending out some messages online. Thankfully, it was one of the planes with WiFi capabilities at cruising altitude. There was a lot of things he needed to get in order when they landed and one of them was getting Marco's stingray out of storage. His father's car could be called and Jon would likely meet them there, but he knew Marco also wanted to get his car back. What he also knew was that he'd want to drive it but that wasn't about to happen. Jean would be driving it back to the estate, and there they would have to get ready to go meet Levi. He'd given them specific instructions to meet them at the club at 9pm with no clue why, but they weren't about to miss it. Disobeying Levi's orders wasn't wise and he wasn't about to piss off the one guy Marco revered.

As the captain of the plane came over the intercom announcing they were beginning their descent, Marco stirred and open his eye. Tenderly, Jean ran the back of his fingers across Marco's cheek and gave him a warm smile. Marco returned his smile with a kiss on the cheek as he sat up and prepared for the plane to land. Jean turned his line of sight out the window as the city of LA came into view. It was gorgeous and he loved getting to watch it as the sun began to set. Only Marco brought him back to the situation as he'd turned on his phone only to discover a text from Levi. He needed them to be in their best attire and prepared to share everything they'd learned abroad with everyone at the meeting. Jean nodded and Marco groaned as he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Within a few moments they were able to get off the plane with Ymir and Krista in tow behind them. After they picked up their baggage they headed off to the parking deck where Marco's car was stored. He looked absolutely giddy to pick up his keys and sign the paperwork but that was before Jean snatched the keys away from him.

"Hey, what the shit?" Marco fussed as Jean read the sticker on the fob.

Jean looked to him with a soft smile "I'm driving, One Arm-One Eyed Bandit. No fussing about it. C'mon."

"Yeah, but I actually slept," Marco countered "and I can drive with one arm and one eye just fine."

"Don't care," Jean replied firmly "I'm driving. Now, let's go." Marco sighed, resigned to his fate as he heard the tone in Jean's voice. There was no arguing with him at that point. Ymir and Krista had to deal with the unfortunate, unpleasant, task of riding in the practically nonexistent backseat of Marco's stingray. Finding it had been a task in and of itself but having to fit everyone inside and drive as Marco both glared and pouted was something else entirely. He hated seeing that glare but the pout was irresistible. Sometimes that cute little pouty puppy face could just absolutely destroy his will to do anything but at the moment he'd been too busy trying to get out of the parking deck. As he turned out of the deck finally, he reached across to Marco's lap and gently placed his hand atop his thigh. Of course, it was an action that couldn't be reciprocated well due to the fact that Marco's arm couldn't yet comfortably do too much.

In response, Marco just sighed and twiddled with the tips of his fingertips. Jean got a little laugh of it and then moved his hand to turn up the volume of the radio. The drive back to Jean's estate was going to take a little over a half hour. Enduring the half hour ride listening to Krista and Ymir's karaoke caterwauling was gruelling. He came to love them both but that didn't mean that he had to love their horrid voices too. It was nice to see them having fun but he was more than ready to have the ride over with. Thankfully, the ride came to an end when he arrived at the once imposing, gut wrenching golden gates bearing his last initial. Once upon a time he would have felt nothing but dread staring down the gate but, knowing everything was gone that connected the horrible memories, he seemed fine as he punched in the gate code.

Pulling around the bend and up to the front of the hedge lined estate, Jean grinned. Jon was outside waiting for them wearing his standard navy vest and white undershirt. It was a nice sight, to see the one man who was the closest thing to a father that he had. Once he put the car in park and got out of the car he was immediately greeted.

"Jean," Jon began with a soft, affectionate tone "I cannot even begin---"

"No need," Jean smiled "just let's get inside. I've got an idea I need to run by you and Marco after we get Ymir and Krista shown to their room." Jon nodded and saw to their luggage as Jean showed them into the estate. It was a breath of nostalgia for Marco as recalled attending the gala with Jean dressed up to the nines. Marco then moved around to Jean's left and slipped his right arm around his hip, tugging him close, as if he'd . Understanding, Jean leaned into the touch as Jon finished wheeling in their luggage. Krista and Ymir were instructed to visit the rooms and pick which one they liked the best aside from the master bedroom at the left of the top of the stairs.

Curious, Marco looked to Jean "So what did you want to talk about that couldn't be said in front of the girls?"

Taking the lead, Jon nodded "Yes, Jean, what is on your mind? Should we go somewhere else?"

"Father's--- the study would be great, c'mon," Jean corrected himself before leading Marco off by the hand as Jon trailed along at his side. When they reached the old study Jean had to take a breath. That's right. This was his house and the rooms were his.....well, except this one and some bedrooms. He had plans for nearly every room in the home and some were going to need mass renovating. Separating from Marco with his plans in mind, Jean took a seat behind the new teak wood desk. "Jon, I know that you know what I've done. I have the staff's pay coming out of my personal----"

"Your personal account?" Marco questioned before reaching into lapel pocket and placing his check book on the desk. "Well, we can't be having that. See, there's something beautiful about being connected to a man like me. Each family member of my inner most circle gets payed a stipend of the money that comes into me from various benefactors. Jean, I'd like to take the account I would have funded for you to combine with that of the account you're using for their pay. They'll never have to worry about a thing in their lives now."

Jon eyes widened significantly as he stared at Marco "I---I....sir, that's--"

"Any family of Jean's is family of mine," Marco replied with a grin "and it would be my honor to take care of you as you did for Jean. After all, I'm going to marry him. You're practically the closest thing he has to a father so I had better make my impressions now."

Surprise falling away to exasperation, Jon smacked the back of Marco's head with a soft thunk "Then get used to me treating you as I treat him. I don't care _who_ you are or what you do, to me, you're my practically my son-in-law so I will do as I please......but it is nice to see my boy so damn happy for a chance."

Unable to suppress his laughter, Jean snickered at the sight of Jon smacking him "Ahaha!! Jon, you know that Marco is probably not a man to be smacking around like that, right?"

Marco sighed and looked over to Jean as he scribbled out a check "Mmm, doesn't bother me. Just took me by surprise is all."

Jean nodded and took the check from Marco as he wrote out a rather generous sum "Okay, well, I wanted you both in here to talk about something. This idea isn't one either of you could know about. This place was hell on earth for me but now that it's mine I don't want it to have those connotations. Along with that, the boys are gonna need a new home. We can't keep using that dreary club anymore Marco. What do you think Levi would say about making this the new HQ?"

Umber eye widened to an almost saucer proportion, Marco grinned "Wow! Okay, I didn't see that one coming. I'll admit it'd be a pretty good idea. What with the current situation we're in any place we stay is compromised. My apartment, yours, definitely Eren's and Mikasa's, Levi's so damn busy he moves around a lot but I think it'd be a fantastic idea!"

"Great," Jean beamed "then that would make this your office, Marco. I refuse to let Camilla down. You'll be working on all your family business here and I'll help you if I need to. You will also call your mother weekly."

"Weekly? Are you fucking kidd---"

"Do I look like I'm kidding, Marco?" Jean snapped back as he crossed his arms over his chest. _"Weekly._ She loves you. When she understands you're doing better it'll be okay. You'll be attending physical therapy more regularly. We have a gym so you'll use it as well. The other matter to see to is my staff. Marco, my people aren't going anywhere. Now, they all may not have to be informed, but I'd at least like to tell Jon what's going on. He'll be able to help us a lot more if he knows what he's dealing with."

Marco laughed openly and gave him a blinding smile "Yes, sir. I got it. We're not in Italy anymore, so guess I can't boss you around. It's your house after all. When it comes to the staff, that will be a little tricky. Certainly, the others cannot know. I've had Jon's records pulled. I know everything about him....I had to make sure when I did my recognizance on this place that no one would stand in my way. I am aware you two are the closest thing to a family each other has. By all means, he deserves to know so I'll tell him myself." Turning in his chair to face Jon, Marco extended his right hand "My name is Marco Bodt-Martello. I am the head of the Italian Mafia, presiding over both Northern and Southern Italy, while I am also the King of Spades in the assassin company the Soldiers of the Spade. I am the one who killed Uther Kirschtein in this very office. A true pleasure to finally make your acquaintance on even footing."

Jon recoiled slightly at the connection of their hands, but responded well "I know that you were not the man Jean believed you to be, Marco. I knew of your family. I didn't know of your assassin title though for that I have to thank you. Uther Kirschtein was a vile man who was nothing more than a plague. The fact he was finally eradicated makes me sleep a little easier. I do know of your company as I've eavesdropped on the man a time or two. No one tends to pay any attention to the steward. All I know is that the man you work for used to be employed by Uther. You know more about me than I do about you or any of this mess."

"In fact I do," Marco smiled "so I'll start by saying that Ace did once work for Uther under a different moniker. Both Ace and I belonged to Uther's friend's organization called The White Rabbit. About me personally, there isn't much to know. I have a light abnormality in my right eye which is the cause for the eyepatch. It lets in too much light and is silver in color. I was bred for my position in Italy, but trained personally as an assassin long before I took my crown. I am an only child. My mother's name is Camilla and she loves Jean more than she loves me, I'm pretty sure."

"Which is saying something because he's a serious momma's boy," Jean snickered before looking to Jon "but, Jon, I want to let you know that I wasn't dragged into all this. I chose this. I chose Marco and I'd choose him a million times over in any universe, on any planet, in any lifetime. He's the love of my life and you're still someone important to me. It's imperative you understand the life I live isn't because Marco dragged me to it. I made the choice to do so on my own. I've been through absolute hell in my life and the only light at the end of the tunnel is Marco. I need to know that you're okay with what I proposed to him. If Ace agrees this place will house the most powerful assassin organization in the world. We'd need extra security parameters complete with biometric locks, I want new motions lights, new cameras, the place needs to be completely furnished, and you'd be taking care of criminals."

Rising from his seat, Jon placed a hand on Jean's shoulder "You are my son all the same, Jean. Whatever you ask of me I will gladly do. Besides, I believe I owe this one for taking care of Uther. Tell me exactly what you need to be done."

Jean nodded "Thank you. I need biometric fingerprint scanners on the doors, I need each bedroom furnished by 11pm tonight, I need the gym up to par complete with an area of complete padding, I need a firing range outside, I need the code on the front gate changed to whatever Marco will chose, and I need to have this place sparkling. Stock the kitchen as well. Pay whatever you have to, call whoever, just get it done. I'll have you take Marco's check and do with it first what needs to be done. The rest will go to you. We'll have our tech deal with the accounts. Got it?"

"Absolutely, sir," Jon replied as he nodded lowly. "If I may, am I allowed to believe that the ladies in your company are also part of the mafia or assassin company?"

Marco smiled "Well, one is both and the other is solely an assassin. Krista is an assassin and Ymir is my cousin. The men and women you will be acquainted with that have anything to do with me or Jean are likely all related to one organization or the other. You don't have to treat them any differently just be aware that we're highly sought after individuals who likely won't even be in the country for more than a week at a time."

"Except you," Jean corrected "because you're not leaving the country at all unless it's to go see your mother or take care of something back at the compound."

"Damn," he sighed "fine. I promise. For the security code use 95913220."

Jean blinked owlishly "That's a long number. What is it?"

Rolling his eye, Marco nodded "Of course it's difficult but it won't be one you realize it's my mother's birthday backwards. February 23rd, 1959. I've made it rather easy for you."

"If someone is coming after us like you think they may be, do you really think that's a hard code?" Jean countered easily.

"You know me by now, Jean," Marco replied as his voice dropped, a serious tone filling it "I welcome them to try. I'll gut them. Jon, you may not be a part of the Spades but you're a part of my family now. I promise to take care of you as I do Jean, but I need you to hold to a promise that you'll tell no one of who we are or what we do. The only reason we hold our meetings in the club is to deter it from seeming suspicious. Anyone can go into a club but the second you start putting people from all walks of life in the same house it can get tricky. People are no doubt going to try to harm you and all of us here. I need your word, your vow, of secrecy."

Jon looked to them both and smiled softly "I would never betray my family. I promise you I'll tell no one of your identities. I'll go take your luggage to the master bedroom and begin preparations."

"Thank you, Jon," came Jean's reply as he quickly scribbled out a list of items needed and handed Jon both the check and the list "we've a meeting to attend shortly so we'll be out of your hair. Everyone will hopefully arrive tonight when we return." Jon bowed lowly, took the list and check, then headed out of the room leaving both Marco and Jean alone to themselves. For a moment it seemed like the world had come to a screeching halt around them. Once, in that moment, they could take a deep breath and have time to reflect on how far they'd come in life, together.


	29. Chapter 29

Reaching out, Marco pulled him close and flashed a grin "Jean, for someone I haven't proposed to yet, you're taking your husband role rather seriously aren't you? Arranging my work space, forcing me to call my mother and work, ensuring that we've a new place here.....a fine spade husband you're already making."

"Anytime," Jean chuckled warmly as he rested against Marco's broad chest "but I was serious. I know this house could be put to better use, so why not for everyone who needs some place to stay and work? It's got more than enough room, and I couldn't think of better housemates."

"Trust me," Marco scoffed "I could. You and me alone in this house would be fun. We could test out the acoustics in every room.

"Mmm, tempting," Jean hummed "but we've got priorities."

"Like getting ready for the meeting, come, we need to get dressed," Marco reminded him as he took a hold of his hand. Though he may have wished to lead him around, Jean took the lead and ushered him along up the stairs. Down the hall, Jean began to feel as if this place was changing. No longer did he see what happened in the past, but what could happen in his future. Sure, the room was rather desolate and bare considering his mother had practically carted off everything that wasn't nailed down. Good riddance. He didn't want anything of hers to taint the room he and Marco would be sharing anyhow. It all seemed to work out that much better anyway. The two of them could furnish the room however they wanted, and it would truly be theirs.

Directing him to put on his finest suit, Jean was instructed that he could only wear the colors black, white, silver, grey, or red. It felt strange before he was reminded of a card suit's color scheme. They were all so stereotypical, weren't they? He supposed it was a dress code that he would have to get used to as he'd soon be attending the meetings with Marco. It'd be absolutely life ending, were he to not uphold every rule when staying by Marco's side and training under Levi. As he began to process how momentous that was, his fingers began to have issues as he worked to tie his tie properly. Knowing several different variants of tie knots, Marco stood behind him and began to tie an intricate Eldridge knot for him. Soothingly raking his fingers through Jean's hair, he pressed a kiss to his cheek and pulled him closer.

"Need your help with something," he muttered before rutting through his suitcase. Removing a stunning, black and silver striped half-mask, Marco handed the engraved mask to Jean carefully. Examining it in his hands, Jean ran his fingertips over the designs. While he'd known about the masks they wore, he'd never truly seen Marco in his mask nor had he even seen it at all. Something about the way it's metallic colors shimmered beneath the light struck him as both haunting and beautiful. The true purpose of the mask was one he knew but he'd never imagined holding it would feel so strange. Moving closer to Marco he adjusted it over his face and began to tie the black silk strands behind his head. Once it was secured, Marco got to his feet, providing Jean with the chilling effect the mask was meant to exude as he stared up at him. Eyepatch behind the right eye, obscuring the view of Marco's silver eye, Jean found it all the more shudder inducing.

Facing the fear of it as Marco's aura had taken a turn for the professional, Jean reached up and upped his cheek. Running the pad of his thumb over his silken skin, he knew that this was a sight, a feeling, he'd need to adjust to. In the end of things, however, it was still just Marco beneath that frightening visage. Marco's response to his action was to finish pulling on his leather gloves and affixing his sling to the position he liked it all while maintaining eye contact with Jean. Rooted to the ground, Jean could only continue to stare, to search, as he examined how much Marco too had changed. Maybe before he'd have felt like Marco may have killed him at the drop of a hat if he'd met him in his current attire, but all he knew of was the sweetness of Marco's tender touches and gentle caresses. No matter what, Marco would always be that to him. His purpose. His love. His light. A silly mask and his work attitude wasn't enough to keep him away from him. As far as he was concerned, nothing would ever keep him away from Marco.

Leather curled over his hand as Marco brought his hand down, "Are you alright, Jean? I forgot that you've not seen me like this."

"I'm okay," Jean answered softly "but it is haunting to look at. To know this sight is the last thing many have seen before their deaths makes me feel as though as I'm cheating it. No matter who you are, what you do, or how you act to everyone else, Marco, you will always be the man I love. I know better than feel scared or intimidated."

Marco pressed a kiss to the crown of his head "You never have to be scared of me. My hands will never hurt you. I will _never_ hurt you. I love you."

Wrapping his arms around his waist, Jean nodded "I know. I love you too. Is it time to go?"

"Mhmm," Marco hummed as he moved back from the embrace. "I believe I'm driving this go around. You're sleepy, huh?"

"A bit," Jean admitted through a drowsy smile "but I can manage alright. I really don't like the idea of you driving."

"Good thing I didn't ask," he responded before picking up the car keys and dropping them into his pocket. Before leaving the room, they both straightened up and made for the door. Marco's arm found it's way around his hips as they descended the stairs. Awaiting them at the bottom, were Krista and Ymir. Both looked absolutely stunning but it was Krista who turning every head in the estate. Donning a metallic sanguine halter dress with a collar wrapped around her neck and baring an almost scandalous thigh high slit, she was certainly dressed to kill. A small shawl was draped daintily around her shoulders, but mostly Ymir covered her shoulders as she kept an arm around him. It seemed they were fit for matching as Ymir's tie and vest matched Krista's. What really shocked Jean about their dress, however, was the masks they held in their hands. When Marco said they'd been tasked with dressing their best, Levi had really ensured they were dressed to the nines, masks and all.

Krista reached out to Jean's chin, pushing his jaw "Aww, honey, you're drooling. Do I look that good?"

Jean cleared his throat "You look......phenomenal, Krista. Wow, Ymir, ya girlfriend killin' it tonight."

"Thank you," Ymir replied proudly, chin lifted in the air before lifting their jointed hands "but she's not my girlfriend. She's my _fiancee_."

Marco's eyes blew wide as he sent a playful punch to her shoulder "Atta girl!! Congratulations, Ymir and Krista. I am ecstatic for you both. Momma's been waiting on that one for a while now! That'll get her off our backs, babe."

Rolling her eyes, Ymir droned "Partly in why I had to do it before you. You know how it'd look if you got married before me?! Couldn't let that happen. You two haven't been together nearly long enough."

"We almost died for each other," Marco brought up "and that doesn't matter to me. You think I could love anyone else? You think there would ever be room in my heart for anyone else? It's called a long engagement Ymir, and I hate to break it to you, but I'm planning on doing just that."

Jean blinked slowly and looked over to him "Oh? You can't say that yet. I haven't said yes."

"True enough," Marco grinned "but one day soon. Before you think."

Krista looped her arm through Jean's "Great! Camilla will have so much fun planning for both! C'mon, boys, it's time we get to the real party!" Cheerfully, she dragged both Jean and Ymir out the front door leaving Marco to trail behind him. Jon tossed him a sympathetic shrug and shut the door behind him as he wasn't entirely able. Once out at the car, Marco hit the keyfob and unlocked the doors. Jean opened the doors for the ladies, watching as Ymir slid into the back and shortly joined her. There was no need to cramp Krista in the back, especially not when she was dressed so well. He didn't want to cause any wrinkles in the dress considering how the small train that followed behind it could be creased if she weren't up front where there was room. During the drive the radio filled the car but Jean sat forwards, hand at the nape of Marco's neck as he enjoyed the ride. Marco seemed so content with the fact he was touching him that Jean didn't care that he wasn't beside him.

Upon their arrival, the music was lowered and everyone sat silently for a moment. They were preparing for just how rough this was going to be. With Levi recovering from his injuries, Eren's memory caput, Marco out of order, and various things to be discussed, everyone was on edge. A meeting called like this didn't mean anything good for anyone. Likely, it was all going to be a messed up shit show about how wrong things were going. At the very least they may be a singular shred of information that wasn't horrendous but they wouldn't know until they got up there. Marco rounded the car to help Krista out before lifting the seats to allow both Ymir and Jean out. An arm was around Jean's hips before he could even speak. It was then he saw the ladies don their masks and the pain began to show behind Marcos; whether or not it was physical, mental, or emotional he didn't know. Perhaps it was a mix of all three storms raging behind the umber eye.

Taking a deep breath, they began their walk into the club. Just before walking inside, Jean dipped his hand into Marco's waistband behind his blazer so that no one could see. There was no intent behind the action. He simply liked walking in tow with him and since the pockets on the back of his pants were buttoned he chose elsewhere. Climbing the staircase into the club was a bit much. Sensory overload was an understatement as the flashing lights, scents of overwhelming proportions, and pulsing music that flowed through the speakers clouded his mind. Everything seemed to be so fast paced, that was until he was walking down the short hall to the conference room at the end of the hall. As the door opened, the atmosphere plunged into something else. All else failed him as they walked into a room filled with watching stares and devoid of all noise.

Stepping into the room, Jean cast a surveying glance around him to see that among them were several guests. Two men dressed in black who best suited their new roles of the missing clubs, Erwin and Mike, sat at the back of the bar with their glasses full of amber spirit. Hanji, with her bandage fingertips and newly replaced glasses, sat dressed in a burgundy suit with her Joker mask over her face. The mask was divided in beautiful harlequin stripes of red and white as the decoration was in a flowing black script. It seemed so fitting for the jesting woman, her exuberant personality a true delight to the room. Adding to the room's absolute brilliance was Levi's sister, Isabel, sitting in a stunning, sparkling black gown with her bright auburn hair pulled up and away from her face. Ymir and Krista took their seat around their friends leaving only two more people left to arrive. Before then, however, things had taken an interesting turn.

When the door closed behind him, Marco stood tall and took a couple of steps forward where Levi met him. Levi's choice of attire fell into their dress code, black suit with soft silver pinstripes partnered with a merlot undershirt and a white tie. To Jean, he might have seemed imposing looking like that, mask on the table behind him, but Marco only held his ground in front of him. Eyes dared not move from the spectacle as the two men stood silently in front of one another, holding their gazes steady, neither making the motion to move. It felt like an eternity before they watched the two silently embrace. Marco's free hand clasped the back of Levi's neck as he held him so securely against him. Levi's arms wrapped around his back for a couple moments before the two stepped back with a look in their eyes that Jean knew even from a distance was something more than the sorrow on the surface. For a split second, the two nodded before either one of them made an attempt to speak.

Marco's voice was a soft whisper as he regarded Levi "I'm so sorry, Levi, for everything."

"No, Marco, that falls to me," Levi offered sympathetically "as it was my carelessness that led to it all. You got hurt because of me and so did Jean. I almost got you killed, Marco! He shouldn't have been in there. If I hadn't made that call then you---"

Speaking up, Jean shook his head "Levi, I don't see it like that. I missed my window. It was my fault I remained and no one else's."

Levi glared daggers back at Jean before continuing to address only Marco "I am sorry. But on a cooler note, my scar is better than yours." His tone rapidly changed as he flashed a grin before he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a gnarly, jagged scar pulling his skin together. On instinct Jean averted his gaze, but then looked back. Diagonal, running several inches from hip to sternum, Levi's scar was massive but it was proof he'd survived something so truly traumatic. All of them had walked away from that battle scene but none did it without a memory that'd last forever.

Scoffing, Marco jerked his arm free of his sling and tugged down his shirt "I got shot! I think win this one. Look at it!"

"WIN?!" Jean shrieked.

Krista chuckled "The two war mongers make a bet about who gets the best scar when they get hurt. It's become a tradition since they're impossible to kill. I'd swear they were immortal with how often they've played this game."

Smacking Marco hard on the chest, Jean scowled "Put that goddamn sling back on, Marco Darien Bodt-Martello, or else I will call your mother!"

Cringing at even the thought, Marco sighed "What am I ever to do with you, huh? Threatening me like that in front of everyone, Amore.....what are you thinking?"

"That perhaps he forgot his place in this room is no longer that of a charge, not that of an equal, but my subordinate," Levi spoke sharply as looked over to Jean.

Marco sent a hard smack to Levi's back "Ah, he's alright just this once. Another time and he might need to be _disciplined._ Levi, there is also a manner that Jean wishes to discuss with you. He's got big plans."

Feeding him to the wolf and walking away to pour himself a glass of cabernet as Levi perked up "Oh, do you? Do tell me, Jean, of this master plan before I tell you mine."

"Well," Jean began a bit anxiously "I inherited my father's estate. After everything that happened I'd like to repurpose it for everyone here. I have enough bedrooms for everyone to stay. As far as I know everyone's apartment's are compromised and I have a library, a gym, a personal chef, security measures on every door, I'm having a firing range installed, soundproofing, a pool, a game room, and Marco will have his study. This house is too large for just the two of us. If I can make some use of it then all will be well. I do have a couple of staff members, but I'm not exactly worried about them knowing the comings and goings. Only one person knows of things and that is the man who is essentially like my father----"

"Jon," Levi interrupted "yes, I know of him. We've met a time or two when I worked for your father." Placing a caring hand on his shoulder, a gracious smile began to spread Levi's lips "But I cannot imagine such generosity from you, Jean, after it is I who should be most gracious to you. I owe you so much, Jean. Without your help I'd have never gotten my in, never gotten to save Eren, or Hanji, we'd have gotten nowhere without your help. I am not a very emotional man, Jean, but with everything I am.... _.thank you."_

Jean nodded "You're welcome, Levi, but I would have done that anyway for Eren. I owe him so much. I have to thank you, too, for being willing to train me."

With a firm clasp of his hand, Levi chuckled "Oh, you won't be thanking me when I'm done with you. Everyone here has taken years to master one thing, Jean, but you? No. I've got bigger plans in store for you. See how everyone has a mask? Well, when you finish training under me, Jean, I'll have you one made in Venice. My Jack of Spades; you know what they say, jack of all trades and master none is better than master of one? You don't have time to learn everything, but we'll focus on firearms as that seems to be your niche. Training with me starts early, it is not easy, and you will break before I build you back up. Ymir, Marco, I need a skills assessment so I'll know where to start tomorrow, be sure to have it ready."

Unable to keep his grin from spreading, Jean replied "I can't thank you enough for taking me into your family."

"You're _already_ family, Jean, you've been that since Marco couldn't take his stupid eye off ya," Levi responded "so don't worry about anything. You're home now, kiddo." Attempting to retain his emotions at those words as he saw the sincerity in Levi's face, Jean clenched his teeth. Not a moment later there was a vibration. Levi's eyes enlarged as he picked up his mask from the bar behind them. Leaving without a warning and shutting the door behind him in a rush, Levi made his exit while everyone else waited in suspense. Pouring himself a drink, Jean decided to have something that might keep him from falling asleep. He'd settled with a gin and tonic before taking his seat on the sectional next to Marco. With his right arm thrown over the back of the sofa, and his drink on the table before him, Marco was sitting casually until Jean joined him. Nuzzling against his chest as he sat down, Marco casually draped his arm over Jean's shoulder and held him close.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, another curtain falling on another work. Thank you all to read, comment, and leave kudos. It is incredibly important to me that you do and I love you for it. The next installment of the series will be Surrendering the Spade (Ereri) and will be released some time in 2018. You guys are the best; without you I'd feel like I was yelling into an empty void. Thank you for bearing with me during all the struggles and strife. I hope to see you all again on another work. 
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠ AKA Kat A. Theirin

There was so much going on in his head that he hadn't even bothered to take a notice when he began to hear voices outside the door. At the moment he'd been far too caught up in the fact he'd not gained one family but two thanks to Eren. It wasn't just family that he'd gained thanks to Eren it was also the love of his life. All of the greatest things that had happened to him all stemmed from his friendship with Eren. Sure, the two fought like cat and dog sometimes, but they were like brothers; brothers fought but they also cared about each other. He'd known Eren for awhile and all he wished was the absolute best for him. After everything they'd both been through, he found himself giddy at getting to see Eren again....before the doubt began to creep in.

Between the time of Eren leaving for France and that moment, so much time had passed. Eren had been in the hospital for such a long time. It was likely he'd be weak, tired, wouldn't remember half of them, and he'd like appear thinner. Could he handle seeing one of his closest friends like that? An easy feeling began to swim in his stomach as he tried to imagine the reunion about to happen. Would he remember any of them? What bits could he remember if it was anything at all? No one had been told anything about his condition aside from the fact he'd woken up from his coma. Why had this hit him all the sudden? Jean felt more than a bit queasy and so he turned to bury his face against Marco's chest in hopes of blocking out some of the detrimental thoughts in his head.

In the next moments everyone had to stare. The door had been pushed open and Levi stood just outside the threshold. They could only make out jumbled fractions of what was being said between them, but everyone kept silent and still waiting on Eren to walk into the room. All watched with bated breath as Eren carefully stepped through the door with a mask in his hands. Knowing Levi, he'd just offered Eren a place among his ranks and he'd taken it. No doubt in his mind that he'd taken it either. As far as Jean knew, Levi was the love of Eren's life. There wasn't a thing those two wouldn't have done for each other, but now it was obvious just how much how changed. Levi's face as he entered the room was one of pride and anguish. He'd known that face; he'd worn it himself all too well when Marco finally woke up after surgery. Levi might have blamed himself for the situation they were in, but it was clear to everyone that Eren couldn't have given a care in the world.

Eren was back home; that was all that mattered to anyone. Mikasa had slipped through the room and up to the bar after ruffling Eren's hair. Jean did find her attire choice touch morbid. A little black dress almost made it seem like she was going to a funeral, but the red scarf draped off her shoulders made for a nice match to the red of Eren's tie. Feeling the pain he knew Levi did, Jean had to try not to see how much bigger the suit had gotten on Eren. It was definitely gonna take some time to get some muscle mass back on him, but they had all the time in the world for that. Levi had stepped back to allow the first person to run up to him, to embrace him swiftly. Wasting no time at all, Hanji rose from her seat to wrap herself around Eren. For a moment, there was silence before there were sobs. Watching the way Hanji's bandaged hands clutched at Eren was almost painful. His head lay against her, arms around her back, as tears ran down his cheeks.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Eren," Hanji wailed as she clutched Eren tighter.

"Could say the same for you," Eren muttered softly.

When the two parted, Hanji wiped the tears from Eren's face "Ah, you know me, Eren, too crazy to die. Besides, I've still got a little bit to teach you before you're ready to take my place."

Shaking his head, Eren stepped back "I can't do it without you, Hanji. There's so much I don't know and don't understand. You can't just leave."

Hanji gave him a smile "I have to, Eren, I'm tired of always looking over my shoulder. You're the best person for the job, and look around you, kiddo! There's not a person in this room who'd rather have anyone else."

Taking a moment to do just that, Eren looked past her at everyone in the room and sighed "I can't....I don't know how---"

"I said I'd be around for a bit to teach you. Did your hearing get fucked up while you were in there too? Now, you and I can talk later about it. There's someone whose patience is wearing thin. He's waited to see you for weeks, but he had his own charge to take care of back in Europe," Hanji smirked teasingly before looking back at Jean. The second her caramel eyes fell to his, Jean knew exactly what he had to do. Getting to his feet, Jean adjusted his tie and walked silently up to Eren. Seeing him closer, Jean could definitely tell he was still ill. His skin was dull and had lost a bit of its pigment while the rest of him was almost painful to look upon. He could tell that Eren was having a hard time on his feet by the way he had to keep shifting his weight, so he acted without thinking anymore on it.

Hugging Eren wasn't something he'd expected of himself, nor was the reciprocation expected at all. Warmth spread throughout him as he embraced his friend. He was finally able to see that not much of him had deteriorated while he was in the hospital. He'd wondered if it was sad they'd had to go through so much to realize where the depth of their friendship lied? Maybe they both had to realize that no matter what they'd have each other's back. Through the bickering, the pranks, the teasing, and their insult based humor, he and Eren had always been friends. Now, he was pretty sure their bond would be much deeper than coworkers who simply managed to get along, students who hung out together, or friends who only spoke when they saw each other.

"You scared the hell out of us," Jean grumbled when he released Eren. "I got a call from your sister as I'm losing my mind in a helocopter that you're in a fucking medically induced coma. Like, damn, Eren. I know you like to go big or go home, but, and this is just a request from everyone, maybe don't get yourself shot!"

Eren rolled his eyes "Always a drama queen. If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan on getting shot again. Also, goddamn, you look like shit. Have you been sleeping?"

"Are you fucking lecturing me about my health?" Jean laughed as he regarded the smile creeping into Eren's features. "Besides, have you looked in a mirror? Your look like shit, your red tie is blinding, and I---"

"Red?!" Eren shouted. "How the fuck did you know this was red, Jean?!" An expression next to joy and amazement grew as Eren stared.

Stealing a glance back to Marco, who'd winked, Jean smiled brightly "Never knew your eyes were green, Eren."

"Dude!!" Eren screeched excitedly, glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "How the _hell_ can you see color?!"

Hanji waved her fingers as Jean gestured towards her "Well, Hanji helped work on some contacts for me, but Marco was the mastermind."

"Ah yes, how forgetful of me. The Fucked Up Eyes club! He'd know all about that, huh?" Eren poked as he got a good laugh out of it before the laughs died. "I'm really happy for you though. Is that all I missed while I was out?"

Marco slinked up beside him and flicked Eren between the brows "Nope, it's not. You know what? You're looking at the most powerful man in all of Italy and the man he's to marry one day."

Eren's eyes blew wide before his expression fell as he noticed Marco's arm "I heard about Nero, Marco, I'm so sorry. I got you hurt too.......and Jean....I never---"

"Shut the shit," Marco groaned before he smirked and pushed a finger into his chest "I got shot for Jean not for you. Just because we were there to get you doesn't mean anything. I'd have still run the risk of getting killed when I walked in there, but I got shot protecting Jean. He got stabbed protecting me. You've nothing to be sorry about unless it's your condolences for Nero; that I'll take. I owe you much more than my life, Eren, and back then? I wouldn't have had a problem giving it to you. Now, however, death is going to have to pry my life from me kicking and struggling. I've an entire country to run and a man to spend the rest of my life loving. I owe you for giving me the chance to find Jean, I owe you for putting us in that room, for making us chase you down. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be who I am right now and, boy, let me tell you, there is no one else I'd rather be. Thank you, Eren."

It was a bit of a shock to watch Marco hug Eren the best he could, but it was Eren who seemed the most unsure "I---Marco, I'm happy for you."

"Good, now you can stop being sorry for me," Marco answered as he pulled back. "Be happy. Not sorry, okay? If you really want something to squawk at then do so at Jean. He'll be undergoing Spade training with Levi to become the Jack of Spades. Only fair to have both mine and Levi's boys welcomed on the same day, hmm? Isn't that right, Levi?"

Levi shrugged "Well, mine is already a sure bet. Yours could wash out."

"Fucking hell I will," Jean responded "I've got more grit than you think. If I can pin Marco and Ymir in a knife fight, I think I've got a little bit of talent to speak of."

"I can't wait to see how much, Jean, after all, you know that flexibility you practice with Marco in the sheets won't help you against someone my size who is almost as fast as Marco. I'm smaller, I maneuver much easier than that bean stalk. Your training begins at 4am, sharp, and we'll take a gander at the gym you're working on. Make sure you're ready to spend a few hours getting battered, bloodied, and bruised," Levi warned with an impish smile alight on his lips. "Eren, if you'll join Jean and I on the sofa while Marco gives a report about some things. A lot has happened while you've been out, but we'll go over it later, okay?"

"Okay," Eren replied as both Jean and Levi helped him over to the sofa. Eren sat nestled between Hanji and Levi while Jean took his previous seat while Marco gathered everyone's attention at the center of the room.

After clearing his throat, Marco began "First off, I'm happy to everyone with us. The family is all here, finally. After what happened in France, a lot of us are still reeling and healing. It's nice to see that we've come out on top, isn't it? Unfortunately, I wouldn't have anything to report if that were true. Reports of Grisha Jaeger are uncertain. Sightings have been made, medical supplies bought, but then we've lost him. As for Annie Leonhart, we've got reports of her in the Ukraine. Now, the nail in our coffin is neither of these pathetic curs. While Jean and I were out the night of the vote, to secure my position, we ran into a young boy interested in joining my organization. Only...things didn't add up with his story. The boy was an assassin for an organization long since dead. The Janus coin was found engraved into the nailbed of his ring finger, and after hours of extensive searching and torture he'd still refused to speak. Jean shot him in the end. We learned nothing so I sent out my spies. I still only know this: whoever is after us now, are doing so because of a vendetta. This is personal for someone. Somewhere is a puppet master pulling the strings of the marionettes, calling themselves the Mercenaries of Callippus of Syracuse."

It was Hanji who took the first crack at the information "I see. A vendetta is likely for an organization reclaiming that moniker. It could be someone we left behind or Kenny himself could have had backup organizations. I truly don't know but I'll do what I can to look into it as well. You're going to have your hands busy with work back home. Just be sure to set some spies on the ground."

Rising from the sofa, Levi stood at Marco's side "Suits, we are once again in danger. This organization had the audacity to send a child after Marco and Jean. They insult us. They mock us. We will not let them, but in order to do that we need to protect ourselves. Some of you may have heard, but Jean has been so generous as to allow us to live in the estate that was bequeathed to him. There is more than enough room and amenities to keep one busy. Most of your apartments are compromised so return there tomorrow and pack for a move. I'm going to give you all an order I want you to exhaust your resources on: Ymir and Krista I need you two checking what connections you have in Australia, Isabel I need you to find that Russian boytoy of yours and see what he can get us, Hanji you're up to get to the crazy Irish bitch you're so fond of, I'll check out France and some of the bigger players around South American and Africa, Erwin and Mike I need you to check within the states, and Mikasa I want you to use what contacts you've got in Japan. All together we should wind up with an interesting global profile on whoever is running this. It'll be off to Jean's estate we go, so ready yourselfs, and lets head out. You've got your orders."

In unison, those suits present responded with a deafening "Yes sir." For a moment, everyone was making sure they had their things together before gathering their bearings. Before leaving, everyone was taking their time to get to speak with Eren. He seemed vibrant and enthusiastic for someone who'd just been through so much. Likely, Jean would have bet that he was just as tired as he was. The wobble had gone from his step but he'd still needed help down the stairs. Levi'd volunteered to drive him to the estate while Mikasa grabbed some things for them. Most of everyone was coming back with them, mainly so their fingerprints would be registered in the system and when Mikasa returned she'd be doing the same. Thankfully, Jean knew that Jon would take care of everything for him, as the moment they returned he wished to retire immediately. Not only did he have to train, but he was dog tired.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one. On the drive back, Jean was nodding off but Marco was watching him all the while. He'd known that Jean needed to get some rest, so he drove as fast as he could get away with back to the estate. Everyone knew the way to the estate. He was pretty damn sure he could get back without having to worry about anyone getting lost on their way. In fact, most of them matched his speed and arrived behind him. When they pulled into the drive, he was careful to park and make room for everyone. Waking Jean was easy with a little shake and then they all made their way into the estate as Jon waited outside to greet everyone. Instead of Jean, however, Marco took the opportunity to introduce everyone before announcing that he and Jean were headed to bed. All questions could be directed towards Jon if they needed anything.

Jean and Marco ascended the stairs and made it up to the master bedroom where Jean's eyes finally registered their surroundings. It looked as though Jon had fancied the suit's color scheme and modeled their room in shades of white, cream, and maroon. A king sleigh bed, double vanities, and a complete bedroom set decorated their room with excellent style. If anyone could treat a room well it was Jon. Smiling, Jean walked to the edge of the bathroom and began to loosen his tie. Marco stood at his side and watched him as he carefully undressed while half managing the same for himself. A small chortle escaped Jean's lips as he looked over to see Marco struggling so, of course, he'd volunteered to help him. Helping Marco out of his clothes wasn't anything he'd ever needed to be prompted for.

"You're a mess," Jean sighed as he helped him out of his blazer.

Marco hummed "Mhmm, and you can barely keep your eyes open." There was no arguing with that. He was so tired he could barely see straight but that wasn't going to stop him from taking his time. With Marco down to his boxers, Jean could openly admire him as they crawled into bed together. Naturally, Jean found his place atop Marco's chest but he couldn't stop thinking. After everything that happened to him, good and bad alike, nothing made him more safe, alive, and loved than being with Marco. So much pain and strife of his own life had lead him to a soul far more warped than his own. Marco hadn't been put in his life to change, no, not at all. Jean loved Marco exactly how he was, because no one else got to see the real him beneath the facade. Through their own terrible twists of fate, the two of them had come to understand each other on more than a base level. Everything he felt for Marco had long gone past the butterflies and honeymoon period, now his kisses made him melt in his emotion, and he felt the happiest in the simplest moments, such as laying there in the comfort of his arms knowing he'd always be safe and loved.

Unable to contain his blissful awareness, Jean leaned up and kissed Marco's lips softly "Marco, I love you. What you said to Eren earlier---"

"I meant _every_ word," Marco replied as he raked his fingers through Jean's hair "you're the best thing to ever happen to me, Jean. In all my life, I never expected a gift as great as you. In such a short amount of time, you've changed my world by simply becoming it. I can no longer live like I'm happy to throw my life away, because I wouldn't be. You are my everything; my purpose for living and taking nothing for granted. I love you more than I love anything in this world. Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah, baby?" Jean asked, head tilted askew as he saw the grin widening on his face.

Finger looping through the ring around Jean's neck, his voice flattened "Will you marry me?"

Jean held his gaze, silver eye reflecting back at him before he pressed a kiss above his eyelid "You have been a force in my life that I've been grateful for, Marco. I love you like I never imagined I could love anyone. I've never had a family before, but suddenly here I am finding myself with two. Without you I don't know where I'd be. Maybe I'd still be miserable and hating myself, still struggling to find my place in life, to find a reason to keep pushing myself....who knows? What I do know is that by your side I feel like I can do anything. You are my rock, my beacon, my guiding light that lead me out of the darkness of the horrors of my life and into one I couldn't have ever dreamt of. For once in my pathetic life I feel happy, safe, accepted, and loved. I finally know what it's like to have a reason to smile at nothing. Of course I will marry you, Marco, _my shining spade."_

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Above you will see artwork from the beautiful Dinklebert, ManiacAni, and Kagekii (deactivated) of Tumblr!! I absolutely love these pieces and I never took the time to compile them all in one place! So, at the end of the piece, here they are. 
> 
> ~Hugs & Kisses,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠


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